Life after Death
by AutumnKiss
Summary: As JKR wrote it, Snape dies. He is rescued from limbo and charged with a simple mission. Or is it? SS is returned to a stunned world. Intrigued, HG sets out to learn more while SS slowly comes to realize that death was only the beginning. ON HOLD 4 NOW.
1. Second Chances

_E__xcerpt taken_ from J.K. Rowling's, Harry Potter: Deathly Hallows ...

_o~O~o_

"It cannot be any other way," said Voldemort "I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Harry Potter at last."

And Voldemort swiped the air with the Elder Wand. It did nothing to Snape, who for a split second seemed to think he had been reprieved: But then Voldemort's intention became clear. The snake's cage was rolling through the air, and before Snape could do anything more than yell, it had encased him, head and shoulders, and Voldemort spoke in Parseltongue.

"_Kill_."

There was a terrible scream. Harry saw Snape's face losing the little color it had left; it whitened as his black eyes widened, as the snake's fangs pierced his neck, as he failed to push the enchanted cage off himself, as his knees gave away and he fell to the floor.

"I regret it," said Voldemort coldly.

He turned away; there was no sadness in him, no remorse. It was time to leave this shack and take charge, with a wand that would now do his full bidding. He pointed it at the starry cage holding the snake, which drifted upward, off Snape, who fell sideways onto the floor, blood gushing from the wounds on his neck. Voldemort swept from the room without a backward glance, and the great serpent floated after him in its huge protective sphere.

Back in the tunnel and his own mind, Harry opened his eyes: He had drawn blood biting down on his knuckles in the effort not to shout out. Now he was looking through the tiny crack between crate and wall, watching a boot trembling on the floor.

"Harry!" breathed Hermione behind him, but he had already pointed his wand at the crate blocking his view. It lifted an inch the air and drifted sideways silently. As quietly as he could, he pulled himself up into the room.

He did not know why he was doing it, why he was approaching a dying man: He did not know what he felt as he saw Snape's white face and the fingers trying to staunch the bloody wound at his neck. Harry took off his Invisibility Cloak and looked down upon the man he hated, whose widening black eyes found Harry as he tried to speak. Harry bent over him, and Snape seized the front of his robes and pulled him close.

A terrible rasping, gurgling noise issued from Snape's throat.

"Take it … Take … it …"

"Something more than blood was leaking from Snape. Silvery blue, neither gas nor liquid, it gushed from his mouth and his ears and his mouth, and Harry knew what it was, but did not know what to do -

A flask conjured from thin air, was thrust into his shaking hands by Hermione. Harry lifted the silvery substance into it with his wand. When the flask was full to the brim, and Snape looked as though there was no more blood left in him, his grip on Harry's robes slackened.

"Look … at … me …" he whispered.

The green eyes found the black, but after a second, something in the depths of the dark pair seemed to vanish, leaving them fixed, blank, and empty. The hand holding Harry thudded to the floor, and Snape moved no more.

* * *

Severus could no longer see anything. Everything was blacker than black. There was no cold or warmth, pain or relief; no physical sensation what-so-ever. There was no sound other than the sound of his thoughts, which provided little comfort. After all, the departed shouldn't be able to think, should they?

Severus hung on the hope that he was not dead, that Nagini's bite had not killed him; that Voldemort had not succeeded. He refused to believe that his life's pursuit had ended in failure, with him bound to a dark oblivion for his troubles. No, no he must be alive. He had to be alive. If he wasn't, it was surely a fate worse than death.

The wizard sifted through his final memories. He recalled a pair of green eyes behind a glassy reflection. Harry Potter, the boy with his mother's eyes … Lily's eyes. Harry Potter, son of James Potter, the cocky wizard who tormented him and stole 'her' away, but it was Harry Potter, the boy with his mother's eyes that turned Lily into a living memorial. The boy-who-lived, only to have fate condemn him to death twice. Perhaps, he would not die. Maybe he had more than his mother's eyes. Maybe he had an ounce of her nobility. He would have too. He would not have her soulful magic to shield him this time. Perhaps, the boy would figure out a way to survive without his and Dumbledore's protection.

Yes … perhaps.

_Do not fail us, Potter …_

* * *

Days after Voldemort's fall, a war memorial service was held at Hogwarts. Polished speeches were made in honor of those who lost their lives in the fight against the Dark Lord. Everyone was there – parents, students, ministry workers and every known reporter.

After the service, the new Headmistress ordered the students home for an extended holiday. There would be no end-year exams. They had to rebuild the damaged castle and for some of them, their damaged lives. Harry and Hermione returned with Ron and Ginny. All the seventh years received an invitation back to Hogwarts the following term to complete their studies, but only a few accepted. For the trio, had they chosen too, they could have forgone the lessons and skipped directly to the exams, but they elected to think on it.

"It will be different if we go back," said Hermione, reading the latest edition of the Daily Prophet.

Ron stopped chewing and looked up.

"Yeah, but different is good, right?"

"It's just so weird. I mean, we saw so much … experienced so much. How can we go back to the way things were?"

"We don't," Harry said pointedly.

"You're not proposing we miss out on a do-over?" said Ron.

"No, of course not, but we should be realistic. Hogwarts will never be the same. Not for us anyway. Dumbledore is gone. The Order sustained heavy losses and Snape …" Harry paused. "We just need to accept what's happened and deal with it. I, for one, think we should go back, finish our classes, and move on with the rest of the Wizarding World."

Hermione nodded. Harry was right. There was no use in pretending they were children.

"About Professor Snape … when is … um you know, the funeral?" asked Ron.

"Professor McGonagall wants him buried near the Whomping Willow where he won't be disturbed. I'm sure that is what he would've wanted," said Harry, smiling a bit.

… _not to mention the damage you inflicted on Whomping Willow that's been on these grounds since before you were born! _

"But the Whomping Willow? Isn't that where Lupin almost …" Ron said awkwardly.

Hermione looked on silently. The plot was a bit insensitive.

"I understand Professor McGonagall's reasoning behind it. It's private. No one would dare venture there on a whim. Besides, Snape wasn't a fan of sentiment so it's doubtful he'd appreciate a bunch of sappy nonsense from people who didn't give a rip about him in life," Harry explained, secretly agreeing with his friends, but not wanting to make an issue out of it. "The Professor deserves a real burial – a hero's burial with full honors, but the Ministry is worried that a public ceremony might prompt an attack. A Hogwarts burial might grant him some peace. It's also kind of poetic …"

Harry swished the remnants of his juice around in his glass. It was a somber time for everyone. Nearly every household had been touched by tragedy. Fred, Remus, Tonks, Dobby … so many good people died in the fight against Voldemort.

The trio sat quietly for a moment. The reality of the Professor's heroism was just beginning to settle in. If Harry hadn't gone public, no one would have ever known that Severus 'Snivellus' Snape was Dumbledore's man all along. Of course, he left out a few details, such as Snape's lifelong love for his mother, Lily. He owed it to the wizard. Only a handful of persons actual heard him tell Voldemort the truth and none of them understood the level of his devotion, his love. They all assumed his love was the love of a dear friend.

To think, he hated Snape, truly hated him. Before the pensive, Harry had taken some twisted sense of satisfaction in his death, a pleasure that was undoubtedly apparent in his eyes when Snape died. For that, he felt ashamed. He should have trusted Dumbledore.

"Now that you-know-who is dead … do you think the jinx has been lifted on the Dark Arts post?" Ron put forth, hoping to steer the conversation in a different direction. He was depressed enough. Fred's death still weighed heavily on his mind.

Harry shrugged.

"Rumor has it that Slughorn is going back into retirement. They'll have two positions open soon. It's going to be tough trying to finding teachers to fill them both."

"Slughorn is leaving?" Hermione spat. "Well, that's bloody good of him!"

"Hermione, he was retired when Dumbledore convinced him to come back. I don't think he ever intended to stay," said Harry.

"Whatever, it's still wrong! Hogwarts needs him."

"Maybe they'll hire Lockhart back," Ron smiled.

Hermione's eyes widened.

"Ronald, don't be ridiculous! He barely remembers his own name. More importantly, it's Defence Against the Dark Arts 'not' Dark Arts."

"I'm with Hermione," said Harry, laughing a bit. "I doubt Professor McGonagall will ever be desperate enough to hire Lockhart!"

"It was just a thought," the wizard mumbled.

"Say, where's Ginny?" Harry asked, suddenly noticing that his girlfriend hadn't come downstairs yet.

"She went with Mum and Dad to the market. They left an hour ago. Mum is worried for Ginny's safety with so many rogue Death Eaters lurking about."

Deep down, Harry felt slighted. If anyone could protect Ginny, surely he could. Didn't Mrs. Weasley trust him?

Harry returned to his bacon and eggs. Hermione resumed her reading and Ron finished off two more helpings of griddles. They ate in silence. All of them were going to be spending a lot of time together over the next few months. There was no need to fill every waking second with conversation.

* * *

Severus felt as if he was standing. Everything was still blacker than black, but he felt vertical. He wasn't floating anymore. The blanket of black slowly brightened like the early morning sky before dawn, but instead of a dark blue sky, Severus saw only a thick grey mist. There was no sense of time in this place of limbo, no structure, or dimension – no up, no down, no width or depth.

The murky cloud twirled and rolled until a pinprick of light pierced its layers, giving the wizard direction at last. A stream of gold light trickled through, filling the watery void with reflection. While unable to comprehend the nature of 'where' he was or 'what' he was seeing, Severus searched for an answer. Where was he? His helplessness digressed into alarm when the puncture began to quake. The rumble was enough to crack the misty armor in every direction. The mist soon receded, behaving as if it was both conscious and afraid of the radiance that followed. And with good cause. The light was brighter and more powerful than any explosion, yet gentle at the same time. It did not burn.

Instinctively, Severus turned his mind off to the sight.

"Do not be afraid," the Light whispered.

Unsure of himself and his sanity, the wizard focused on the only thing that made any sense – the aroma. Something that smelled very much like dirt was all around. The fresh soil tickled his nostrils. There was also a breeze – a warm, sweet breeze. It carried with it the scent of grass, wild flowers, and honeysuckles. Severus took a deep breath and slowly opened his eyes, allowing the scenery to come into focus. He was standing on a dirt road in the middle of somewhere he'd never been. The beaten path flowed north and south. A tatty wooden fence followed the road in both directions. Guarding the fence were several large trees, which separated the trail from the green horizon in the distance. As far as the eye could see, an endless sea a rolling blades and colorful buds decorated the plains.

Severus glanced down and took an inventory of his person. He wasn't injured and his robes were free of bloodstains. Someone must have healed him, but who and when? More importantly, why?

"Hello," a voice said.

The startled wizard snapped around. Standing in the middle of the road was an old, black man in an oversized robe spun from a material he didn't quite recognize – Sheppard's cloth, perhaps. It was threaded and worn, but comfortable looking. Severus wasn't the sort of man that made a habit of noticing the clothes people wore, but the robe was noticeably outdated.

"Who are you?" he asked, careful to seem indifferent in anything but his name.

"You mustn't be afraid," he replied.

"I'm not," Severus said skeptically.

He wasn't afraid, but he wasn't at ease either.

"How did I get here?"

"I brought you here."

"Why?"

The man smiled.

"What is the last thing you recall?"

The wizard's face became tight and confused. He remembered the feel of blood-soaked clothes, Lily's beautiful eyes, and the last breath he'd ever take. After that, everything faded to black. How could he have made it anywhere in his condition?

"Who are you?" he asked again, not answering.

"I have many names, but you may call me, Al."

"Well, Al …" said Snape. "Where am I? What is this _place_?"

"You are quite literally nowhere – a halfway point between destinations. I brought you here because I felt you deserved a second chance."

A small smirk tugged at the corner of the wizard's mouth. He didn't know whether to laugh or sneer, but out of general respect he resisted the urge.

"I see," he said in a lofty, somewhat disbelieving tone.

In all probability, he was experiencing a 'death' dream – the final throws of a dying brain, which meant he was still inside the Shrieking Shack bleeding to death. Not an all together pleasant thought …

Wincing a little, Severus glanced around.

A morning glow covered everything, but there was no sun, just a perfect blue sky overhead. Fresh dew blanketed the trees, grass, and flowers; creating a soft, dreamy aura. More stunning than that were his senses. They were so acute, more precise than youth and magic allowed. It was as if he could hear each leaf fold, see every blade of grass, and smell every blossom. He wasn't sure why his imagination chose such a place, but he could think of worse hallucinations.

Severus turned back to the old man and studied him carefully. He had an ambiance, a type of glow that radiated warmth and serenity. He had no idea what distant memory his subconscious plucked_ Al_ from but it seemed pointless to ponder.

"Am I to conclude that it was you who rescued me?" he asked, playing the part.

"But of course," Al cheerfully replied.

"Was it you that also healed my wounds?"

No response.

"Very well ... I suppose that's self-explanatory. Just tell me, how do I know you and what do you mean by second chance?"

"You do not know me, but I've known you since you were a small boy, long before you began collecting dead flies, rodents, and your father's clippings for your potions!" he chuckled.

The wizard's face cooled.

"I brought you here so that I could send you back. You may elect not to return, but I hope you will choose life. Despite all its hardships, it is a blessing. You have the opportunity to learn and grow, to become a better person, and by that, a better being. It is only there that you can learn those lessons."

"Lessons …" Severus snorted. "What lesson is that? I only have regrets. I need no more lessons!"

Alpha's joyous countenance turned more serious. It was sad that he could not see what was right before his eyes.

"Whether you believe me or not, you are loved," he said simply.

Severus teetered on a menacing sneer, but held his grudge to a scoff. Normally, he would've snapped by now, but he wasn't in the habit of dehumanizing crazies. Apparently, this man (dream or fantastic hallucination) was senile! Severus Snape, loved?

"Albus Dumbledore was the only man who ever loved me and that love came at a price. What is your price, Al? What lifelong service shall I perform in exchange for your _help_?" Snape said bitterly, no longer questioning the dream, but the dreamer.

It seemed almost cruel that his mind would challenge him this way. Why tease him with life? Why mock him with sentiment? What was his subconscious trying to prove?

"Love, Severus. Love is your only service to me."

Snape's face bloomed into disbelief and mockery.

_Love?_

Seeing this, Alpha turned and studied the landscape. It was truly beautiful there, but it paled next to the wondrous splendor that awaited.

"What say you, Severus? Do you wish to return or stay?" he asked.

"I wish to be rid of you," the wizard answered flatly. "If returning me to darkness will serve that purpose, please do so. I wish to wake from this dream or stop dreaming all together! It is pointless."

Alpha took a hearty breath and nodded. Severus had no desire to stay, which was all the permission he needed.

"Then return you shall," he said with a noble smile.

Right then, a powerful breeze swept the countryside, stirring the pasture, honeysuckles, and trees. A pang of apprehension and regret emerged in the wizard's eyes. He wasn't ready to go. He wasn't ready to die. If this was his last opportunity to experience anything, despite its lunacy, maybe he should try to enjoy it.

"Your time here has ended," said Al.

"Wait …"

"It is time. You must return now."

"To darkness, you mean?" asked Snape, concealing his nervousness with a stiff chin.

"To life, Severus – to life, which is sometimes one and the same, hence the need for love. Now, be still and close your eyes," said the old man. "I will guide you."

Snape conceded with a miserable snort. Death was inevitable. He might as well hush up and let the fantasy conclude. At least, he would depart having felt the company of friend instead of a cold, dark room. It was much more than he ever expected and probably more than he deserved.

"Remember what I said, Severus. Do not waste this chance. Remember your service ..."

Snape bristled, but before he could dish out his final sarcastic retort, the unfeeling darkness took him again.

* * *

**A/C: **Segments of this story **may** border on controversy, but it's just a story. As always, thanks for reading!


	2. Returning from the Dead

The darkness was just as black as before, yet different somehow. It seemed lonelier than the first time. There was a kind of urgency now; a dire need to move, to speak, but Snape was paralyzed, stiff as a board. Yes, everything was different; this time he could feel. This time he was aware of his body's existence and that awareness was horrifying.

Severus could feel his lungs slowly filling with air. It burned, not badly, but painfully enough. Hundreds of microscopic pinpricks in his fingers and toes spread over his body, followed by a series of goosebumps. Wherever he was, it was cold and damp.

Snape's nostrils flared when he caught the faint, doughy scent of mildew and stone. It wasn't a sweet smell, but it was a welcomed one. He inhaled it deeply, forcing his lungs to accept the stale odor. Instantly, the wizard began to cough. It was too much for his system to handle, but coughing was good. The constant jerking allowed him some movement and raised his heartbeat.

_Heartbeat?_

For the first time, Severus fully appreciated the distinct feel of his heart beating in his chest. He was also aware that his eyes were moving, albeit vaguely. They were fighting his lids, trying to open, but it was difficult. After many attempts, he separated his lashes and let the room come into focus. The light grazed his irises, chasing the darkness away, but it was difficult to accept. The brilliance was torturous.

_Where am I?_ he thought, combating the painful glare.

Snape gradually became aware that he was lying on a slab. It was cold and hard, most likely stone. The fact that his head rested on a satin pillow offered little comfort. He slowly crooked his neck and peered downward. An elegant blanket, comprised completely of Slytherin colors, draped his body and his hands rested neatly at his side.

The wizard closed his eyes and took another deep breath. Though it hurt less, breathing was still a challenge. He had to endure several more coughs before he was able to perform the act normally. Severus focused all of his energy on moving. It seemed every gesture required an immense amount of concentration, but gradually, he began to make progress.

*Minutes Later*

The wizard managed to sit up and sweep his legs over the edge of the slab; once upright, he rested for a long moment. Who would have thought that sitting up was such a monumental task? The wizard was weak, groggy, and in a lot of pain, but all things considered, he felt unbelievably relieved. At least he was breathing.

Snape reached up and cradled his sore neck. He could feel two puncture wounds through the fabric of his collar, but he wasn't bleeding. If that wasn't strange enough, he took an inventory of his surroundings and found that he was in a cell of some kind. Stone bricks, varying in size and mildew, comprised the walls. Though his dress robe offered some comfort, the only source of heat in the compartment was the torches. There was no hearth, no windows, and excluding the occasional drip, no sounds. He was in a dungeon, of that he could be sure, but where and why?

No sooner had he asked the question before it answered itself. Severus clutched his forehead and worked to banish the rush of unwanted images from his mind.

_My Lord!_

_Kill …_

Pain. Blood. Helplessness.

_Look … at … me …_

Lily. Darkness. Nothingness.

A country road … a tatty wooden fence … honeysuckles …

An old man …

_Love is your only service …_

Wind … darkness.

The realization was gradual, but irrefutable. This was his funeral chamber! Snape tore his hand away from his neck and grasped the edge of the slab. Suddenly, he felt very sick but there was nothing for him to vomit. His stomach was as hollow as his narrow recognition that his colleagues were about to make a grave mistake. The pun was beyond ironic.

Severus looked around the room. His breathing became very shallow and his chest began to tighten. He was going into shock and he knew it. He gripped his heart and muttered an unintelligible plea. His voice was rasp, barely audible due to his injuries and its lack of use.

As the wizard struggled to come to terms with his predicament, his condition worsened. The urgency he felt was zapping what little energy he had. Soon, the room became fuzzy and distorted. Severus found it difficult to see through the watery haze forming his eyes. Yes, he was in a lot of pain, but it was due to shock, not injury.

Snape didn't have the use of his legs, or the strength to carry his body across the room, but he had to try. If he lost consciousness, he would awake six feet under. He had to put as much distance between himself and the stone slab as possible. Someone needed to know he was alive.

Using the block for support, the wizard pushed himself to the very edge and over. He was able to stand, though his legs were unsteady. Severus took a shallow breath and shuffled forward. He nearly toppled over after taking the first step, but sheer determination kept him upright. He took another step, then another. Soon, he was fighting vertigo and cramping. His legs felt like they were on icy-fire. The wizard ignored the pain and shuffled a few more paces.

The ache in his neck was growing more intense by the second. The rush of adrenaline had ignited something in his brain. His synaptic pathways were now firing off pain advisories. He was in no condition to move, much less walk, but if he wanted to avoid burial, he couldn't afford to care. Severus managed to make it the door before collapsing, falling first to his knees, then to his stomach.

Snape remained helpless on the floor, soaking in a small pool of fresh blood. His wounds had reopened. A stream of salty water flowed down his nose as his eyes fluttered shut. If there was ever a time to cry, it was now. Hope, a feeling Severus had never put much stock in, was his only chance. Someone would need to discover him very soon if he was to survive a second time.


	3. The Near Death Theory

Snape was marginally aware of his surroundings. He could hear a disembodied voice calling out to him, but he wasn't sure if it was real. The voice was faint and overshadowed by a loud ringing in his ear.

"Professor Snape?" the Bloody Baron shouted.

Severus grunted in recognition. He couldn't be sure if what he was experiencing was some sort of delusion, but it didn't matter. It was a relief to think that someone had found him. Startled, the Bloody Baron floated back. It was as if the ghost had seen a ghost!

"If you can hear me, Professor, I will find help! Don't give up!" he said worriedly.

With that, the Spirit of Slytherin House rose through the ceiling and disappeared. He needed to find Pomfrey and fast.

* * *

"_Careful!" _a woman bellowed._ "Lower him gently."_

"_Yes, Ma'am" _said a male voice.

"_I need supplies … watch him, but don't touch him!"_ she said rushing off.

Severus's eyes fluttered open. He saw an unfamiliar face standing over him. It was clear by his irritated expression that the wizard was accustomed to giving orders, not receiving them. When the Auror spotted the patient move, he called out to the Healer.

"Madam Pomfrey, come quickly! He's awake!"

Poppy raced to Snape's bedside.

"Severus, it's Poppy. Do you understand what has happened to you?"

Snape did not respond.

"What am I saying? I don't even know," the witch berated. "Don't worry, Severus. All will be well," she smiled.

Suddenly, the face of an old, black man and country road flashed in his mind. What was his name again? He could not remember. Severus gave Poppy an appreciative nod before succumbing to blackness again. He was safe.

* * *

Snape overheard two female voices muttering above him. He tried to make out their faces, but his lashes proved too thick.

"I don't know, Minerva. This is a first for me."

"How long has he been this way?"

"Again, I don't know. Since the battle, I'm guessing."

"What? How could … didn't you check?"

"Of course, I checked!" Poppy snapped. "He had no vitals! Not one!"

Minerva offered an apologetic nod. She meant no offense. The witch was a competent Healer with an atypical (if not eerie) case on her hands.

"Oh sweet, Merlin …" she said. "What is his current condition?"

"Severe blood loss and acute dehydration, but he should live," answered Pomfrey, looking sympathetically at the wizard lying in the bed. "It's simply remarkable! I can't explain it."

"Do you think he should be transferred to St. Mungos?" McGonagall asked.

"I believe I can treat him here; besides, when the news breaks, everyone will want to talk to him! Hogwarts will be able to offer him a refuge, a place away from all that ..."

Soon, the voices faded and Severus lost consciousness again.

* * *

The next time Severus woke, Pomfrey was working to push something into his mouth. There was a wizard at her side, but he didn't recognize the man's face.

"Severus, I need you to swallow this," she told him.

Snape unlocked his jaw and allowed the Matron to wedge a spoonful of medicine into his mouth. She was gentle, but her softness did nothing to prevent him from gagging.

_Blood replenisher …_ he thought, cringing as he swallowed.

"Are you sure?" Poppy asked the advisor.

"Yes, I am certain. Arthur Weasley suffered a similar bite," he heard the man say.

"And the coma ... is that typical?"

The voices grew fainter until finally there was nothing. Snape had drifted back to sleep.

* * *

When Severus awoke again, it was nightfall. He was still groggy, but not nearly as weak. The hangings on the wall quickly noticed that he was up and began to prattle. Although they spoke in muffled tones, it was obvious that 'he' was the topic of conversation. Thankfully, the wizard never paid much attention to idle gossip, enchanted paintings or otherwise.

The infirmary appeared empty, but Severus knew Pomfrey wasn't far away. He studied the room until his eyes fell on a male figure standing a short distance away. Given his plain robe, Severus assumed he was a summer intern, but after a moment, he thought again. He couldn't make out the stranger's face, but there was something oddly familiar about him.

"Who …" Severus said, his voice still raspy and worn.

The figure did not move or speak, but looked at Severus caringly. It was odd that he could not see his face, but somehow, he knew what the stranger was doing. Out of nowhere, Poppy stepped into his line of sight.

"What did you say, dearest?"

Though his mouth could not relay the message, Snape's eyes told her to move. Poppy glanced over her shoulder and politely stepped aside.

"What is it, Severus? What do you see?"

Snape blinked confusingly. The man was gone. Was he hallucinating?

"Is something wrong, dear?"

Severus did not respond. He couldn't explain even if he wanted too. His vocal cords felt constricted. The wizard shook his head 'no' and rested his eyes yet again.

* * *

(Two Weeks Later)

With Pomfrey's assistance, Severus eased back into bed.

"There you go," she said gently.

Snape shot the witch an annoyed look. She was doing it again!

"What did you want to talk to me about?" he grumbled, his voice still hoarse.

"I will tell you when Minerva arrives. She should be here any moment."

The wizard folded his arms and looked out of the rainy window. It seemed everyone was walking on eggshells around him. Not only that, but he was on the information black list! No one would tell him anything.

"Will you please answer one very simple question? What happened to the Dark Lord?"

"Severus …" the motherly Matron began, "What do you remember about that night? After you were bitten, that is …"

Snape took an exasperated breath.

"Nothing," he answered.

"I find that hard to believe," Poppy said disbelievingly.

"Nothing of consequence," Snape added. "I told you everything I know."

Pomfrey accepted his answer on merit and jotted something down on her chart. Seconds later, the Headmistress entered the hospital.

"Severus, how are you feeling today?" she politely inquired.

"Fine," he dully replied, eyeing Pomfrey carefully.

_What was she writing?_

"Poppy tells me that you're eating and walking on your own now. That's wonderful news! Keep it up and you should be out of here in a month or so."

The nurse grimaced. She had omitted that tidbit when the wizard asked, referring to the 'let's wait see' answer.

"How long?" he said in a low voice.

McGonagall's smile dimmed.

"Severus, you've been through a traumatic ordeal. Madam Pomfrey needs to be certain that you are completely well before she releases you."

Bristling, Snape cleared his throat.

"I am grateful for Pomfrey's assistance, but I refuse to stay here a minute longer than necessary! A few days, fine. A week, maybe - but a month? Don't bet on it!"

Minerva stopped smiling completely.

_Finally,_ he thought.

"Please tell me about the battle," he asked, changing the subject. "What happened? Is the Dark Lord dead?"

McGonagall looked at Pomfrey. She had hoped to avoid 'that' topic.

"Minerva, please …"

The witch knew that he needed his rest, but he wasn't going to get the rest he needed if all he could think about was the war. Obviously, it was important to him.

"We won," she answered.

"And the Dark Lord?"

"Dead. Harry Potter killed him."

Snape exhaled a breath of relief and eased back into his pillow.

"How many casualties?" he swallowed.

"More than hundred fatalities …" McGonagall answered. "Colin Creevey, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Fred Weasley, Vincent Crabbe … to name a few."

"And the others? What of them?"

Minerva assumed he was referring to the Death Eaters.

"Many of Voldemort's followers escaped. The Auror Office is working around the clock to find them. In the meantime, the Wizarding World is on the lookout for troublemakers. They've apprehended forty thus far and sixteen have received sentencing. The others are awaiting trial."

"Surely, the Ministry realizes there are more out there," he said.

"Yes, but finding them is proving difficult. Many of Voldemort's loyalists are high-ranking officials and wealthy purebloods. No one is talking. I'm sure that will change after a few them have spent some time in prison."

Snape nodded. _The dementors will loosen their tongues._ He thought.

"Severus …" Minerva said carefully. "I didn't come here to discuss the state of the Wizarding World. There will be plenty of time for that later. I came here to talk about you."

"What about me?" he said confusingly.

The Headmistress shifted uncomfortably.

"It is about what happened …"

Completely stone-faced, Snape watched as McGonagall struggled for the right words.

"We thought you were dead," she confessed. "Potter saw the light go out in your eyes. He saw you die."

Snape snorted.

"Well, that it explains it then. You listened to Potter!"

_Will that boy ever cease to be a pestilence?_

"No!" McGonagall defended. "The Aurors who transported you here checked for vitals and Poppy performed her usual tests after you arrived, but no one found anything!"

"That's impossible," said Snape. "You obviously missed something."

"Obviously," the witch admitted. "... but we are so very sorry, Severus. It must have been horrible for you … waking up in the dungeon like that. Words cannot express how sorry we are … about everything."

Severus decided not to question the 'everything' remark. Instead, he allowed Minerva to squirm for a moment. Gryffindor guilt was a handy bargaining chip. He might have use for it later.

"So, I was dead … is that the consensus?" looking between Poppy and Minerva.

The witches nodded.

"Clinically speaking," Pomfrey put forth.

"Then how do you explain my miraculous resurrection?" he said half-mockingly.

"After the battle, Nagini's corpse was discovered and taken to St. Mungos. Rodney Vaughn, the same healer who helped Arthur Weasley with his injuries, suggested that Nagini was a special breed, a product of an ancient oxyuranus bloodline and a python. Her venom appears to have two properties." the Matron explained, pausing briefly.

Snape studied Poppy's face. She was a professional so why was she hesitating?

"Her venom prevents wounds from healing, resulting in fatal blood loss. Thankfully, Vaughn discovered the antidote in time enough to cure Mr. Weasley. However, there was another toxin found in Nagini's glands, which no one knew about … a rare venom that causes paralysis, coma, and death. In Author's case, he wasn't injected with it, but after running several tests, we discovered it in your bloodstream. Because of its unique properties, the poison didn't register on my post-mortem tests and because of its rarity … I didn't think to look for it. I am truly sorry, Severus. "

Snape thought carefully for a moment. "Perhaps, it would be prudent to check my pulse again - - just to be safe," he sardonically put forth.

Minerva leaped into Headmistress mode. She folded her arms and chastised the wizard with a stern glare. He wasn't the only one at Hogwarts with a prize-winning scowl.

Severus looked away.

"Please continue," he said less sarcastically.

"We believe that Nagini's venom reduced your metabolic rate to the point that your body mimicked death. It slowed your heart, brain, and respiratory functions so much that your vitals didn't register."

"And the impending death part?"

"Honestly, Severus … we don't know. You had enough poison in your organs to account for three deaths and if that wasn't enough, you were nearly drained of blood! By all accounts, you should be dead. You don't realize how lucky you are ... the Fates have spared you!"

A flicker of surprise flashed in the wizard's face. He wasn't quite ready to attribute his success to the Fates.

"Lucky, mm … why do you suppose Arthur Weasley was spared?"

Professor McGonagall held up her hand and stepped forward.

"That's enough for now. You need your rest, Severus."

"Poppy, answer my question," he demanded, ignoring the Headmistress.

"The purpose of this venom is to sedate the victim, not to kill it straight away …" she hedged. "It preserves the body."

"Go on ..."

"Our best guess is that Nagini hoped to return to feed on you; something I doubt she wanted her master to know," Pomfrey delicately finished.

Severus felt a chill run down his spine. Perhaps, ignorance was bliss. The image of Nagini consuming him, as she did Charity Burbage, was enough to turn his stomach. What if had awoken inside of her?

*Silence*

"Severus," said Minerva, breaking his concentration. "Just so you know, the Headmaster's position is yours, if the Board of Governors approve."

"What..?"

"I've already spoken with some of them and many of them agree that you did not abdicate the office. You were forced to leave under the circumstances."

Snape considered the offer carefully. Like most Slytherins, he was ambitious, but his short stint as Headmaster proved that being in charge wasn't as wonderful as it sounded.

"No, Headmistress. I should like to return to the classroom. Is a position available?"

McGonagall relaxed. She didn't want to give up her role, but she was obligated to offer.

"It just so happens we do have an opening, but we will discuss that later," she smiled. "I'm sure the students will be thrilled to have you back!"

Both Pomfrey and Snape shot Minerva an incredulous look. McGonagall realized her mistake and blushed. Perhaps, 'thrilled' wasn't the right word.

"Potter will be, I'm sure." She amended.

Snape's eyes lost their shine.

"Potter … but he's too old!"

"Yes, many of the older students have opted to return and re-take their classes. It's only fair after all; so many had their education disrupted."

Severus cuffed the bridge of his nose and sighed. All at once, his nausea returned. Not Potter – anyone, but Potter. Now that he knew his secret, he wasn't sure if he could face the boy.

Minerva regarded his reaction as 'typical Snape' and thought nothing more of it.

"Don't be so melodramatic!" Minerva fussed. "It's just one more year!"

"I died and woke up in hell," Snape grumbled, drawing a snicker from Poppy.

The Headmistress waved the moody wizard off.

"Everyone deserves a second chance, Professor. You'd do well to remember that," she told him.

With those electrifying words, Severus slowly looked up. Where had he heard that before?


	4. Breaking News

Ginny and Harry were lounging under their favorite tree when they heard Ron and Hermione shouting in the distance. Harry glanced over to find the couple racing towards them. He had hoped to escape the Weasley home for some much needed quality time, but so far, that was proving difficult.

The first interruption came when Mrs. Weasley wanted to know if they were hungry. Ginny and Harry were amidst a sound snog and didn't hear her approach. Embarrassed, Molly quickly apologized for the intrusion and shot her daughter a derisive look. A short time later, she sent Mr. Weasley to ask if they needed anything from town. Ginny strongly suspected that her mother was trying to keep tabs on them and told Harry as much. Molly loved Harry like a son, but she was an old-fashioned witch and felt Ginny was too young for 'that' sort of romance.

"What is it, Ron?" his sister said annoyingly.

Ron shot the pair an awkward smile then elbowed Hermione. He wasn't overjoyed about his best friend dating his sister, but he was learning to accept it. It also didn't help that his whole family was against him on the issue.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Go on, tell them!" she said.

"You tell them. You're the one holding the bloody newspaper." He pointed out.

"Tell us what?" asked Harry. All he wanted was some quiet time with his girlfriend, but the Weasleys weren't big on privacy.

_How did Arthur and Molly manage to have so many kids?_ He wondered.

Hermione handed Harry the latest edition of the Daily Prophet. "This just came," she said, biting her lip.

Harry took the newspaper and adjusted his glasses. Ginny, who was resting comfortably against his shoulder, read along with him.

* * *

"_Fallen Hero Lives!"_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_Three weeks ago, Professor Severus Snape was discovered alive in the dungeons of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His miraculous survival is a mystery, but anonymous sources report that he was nearly buried alive due to a serious failing on behalf of the medical staff at Hogwarts. _

_Severus Snape was tragically slain by Lord Voldemort's familiar, Nagini, while protecting Harry Potter in the final battle. The world recently learned that Snape was a spy for the late Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix for more than seventeen years. Potter generously shared his glorious victory with the fallen veteran by notifying the press of Professor Snape's heroism at the Hogwarts's Memorial Service last month. _

_Snape is presently unavailable for comment regarding the medical staff's nearly fatal miscalculation. Was his reported death, an accident or a sinister plot? How will he react when he learns that young Potter was fully credited for Voldemort's downfall? Will he be reinstated as Headmaster? Answers to these questions and more as this story develops._

* * *

Harry's eyes glazed over as he read the article again. "Alive?" he mumbled, too shocked to process Rita's innuendos and misinformation.

"We saw him die. It just doesn't make any sense," said Hermione. "But it's wonderful news!"

"It doesn't need to make sense. He's alive! That's all that matters," Harry said excitedly.

"But Harry, aren't you just a little curious?" Hermione asked.

"Harry's right ..." said Ron. "It was chaotic that night. We can't be sure of anything. More importantly, the Wizarding World could use a little good news right now."

That wasn't the point Harry was trying to make, but he'd gladly take it. Ginny looked between her boyfriend and brother disbelievingly.

"I'm with Hermione. What if it's a trick?" she said.

Ron looked doubtful. "Trick? Don't be silly," he laughed, forcing a stern look from his sister.

"Voldemort is the only wizard who ever returned from the dead," Ginny said pointedly.

Harry shrugged.

"Snape isn't back from the dead. There was some sort of mistake. And technically, Voldemort didn't die … he was disembodied."

"Bloody horrible mistake if you ask me," said Ron.

"You got that right, but he's alive and that's what counts!" Harry chimed.

Ginny and Hermione shot one another a skeptical look. They didn't want to rain on Harry's parade, but something strange was afoot.

Harry rose to his feet and kindly helped Ginny up.

"I need to see him … talk to him … thank him, personally."

"Harry, maybe …" Hermione began.

"I'm going," he said firmly. "But I'd like it if all of you came with me."

Ginny and Ron hedged.

"Er … I doubt his attitude towards Gryffindors, especially you, has changed much," said Ginny.

"You guys have to remember that he was a spy for years. Maybe hating everyone was a part of the act ... maybe it helped him to maintain his cover," Harry told them. He really wanted his friends with him, but he'd go alone if he had too.

"Convincing act," Ron half-heartedly joked. "Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for him and all, but I better sit this one out. News of it is sure to depress mum," he said, trailing off at the end.

The Weasley Family was still mourning Fred's death. Molly might see Snape's miraculous return as a slight. 'Why him and not my son,' she'd wonder.

Harry nodded sympathetically. He too felt the pain of Fred's loss, but he wouldn't allow it to affect his decision.

"I'll understand if you and Ginny want to stay here, but this is something I have to do," he told them, turning towards Hermione. "Hermione, I'm sure Professor McGonagall will allow us to stay the night if you want to come."

The witch nodded. She still had her reservations about the situation, but she wouldn't leave her friend to face his old nemesis alone. She, like the others, wasn't told _whole_ story about the Professor's link to Harry's mother, but she admired Snape's heroism and wanted to thank him.

"Great! We'll leave this afternoon," said Harry.

* * *

Severus read the article twice before chunking it furiously across the room. Pomfrey was in the middle of dressing his wounds at the time and moved back. She placed her fists angrily on her hips and offered the wizard a scornful glare.

"That press whore!" he snarled. "She practically insinuated that you tried to kill me!"

"Rita Skeeter is a trash journalist. She's in the business of making people look bad. There's no need to get all worked up about it," the Matron said, resuming her duties.

Snape snorted. He didn't mean to frighten her. He was just upset over the reporter's attempt to make his personal life, public. For the hundreth time since he regained consciousness, he had to wonder how much people knew. Severus balked at the thought.

"What does Minerva plan to do about it?" he asked, less severely.

"She informed the Board of Governors yesterday that you intend to take up your old post."

"And the insinuations?" he pried.

Pomfrey sighed as she put the final touches on the wizard's bandages. "Nothing can be done about that. People can believe whatever they like. The ones that matter already know what happened. However, I'm sure the 'press whore', as you put it, will be paying you a visit in the coming weeks."

A wicked smirk crossed Snape's face. He'd give the Daily Prophet something to report. _'News_ c_olumnist suffers mysterious fall…'_

* * *

Hermione trailed after Harry the entire flight. His broom was much faster and he was a far better flyer; a fact that Hermione secretly envied, but flying was their only option. The Ministry added an anti-apparation field around Hogwarts and the Dark Forest for the duration of the summer to prevent Death Eaters from nearing the castle undetected. They would have to navigate the mountainous terrain by foot if they wanted to attack the school currently under renovation. Anything by air would alert the Auror Office immediately.

It was nearing twilight when Hogwarts came into view. Harry sped up, purposely grazing the treetops as he jetted towards the front gates.

"We're almost there!" he shouted over the air stream.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Obviously, the wizard was excited. The pair made landfall just outside the gate. Hermione massaged her aching bum after they dismounted.

"I should have cast a cushioning charm before I left," she complained.

"My broom has one built in – it's great!" replied Harry, unaware of the daggers flying passed his head.

The pair soon spotted Hagrid waving in the distance. They graciously smiled and waved back. Rubeus walked hurriedly towards the entrance to greet his favorite students.

"Hi, there – Harry! McGonagall's been expecting ya. She got your message and told me to wait close by." he said, stepping aside so the youngsters could pass.

"Thanks, Hagrid. It's good to see you."

"Well hello, Hermione. They didn't tell me you were coming."

"Oh, um, Harry invited me."

"Well, I'm sure Professor Snape will appreciate seeing ya both. Horrible thing, waking up to find out that folks think yur dead. The Bloody Baron was the one who found him. Imagine that! It was touch and go there for a while, but Pomfrey's about got him straightened out. She's the best there is! Say, will you both be spending the night?"

Harry and Hermione nodded. They had no desire to return to the Weasleys that evening. Cushioning charms aside, the flight had been tediously long.

"Great! Um ... how do ya feel about keeping me company after yur visit? I got an extra cot and a comfy couch. Not to mention lots of great snacks!"

The pair shot the half-giant a huge smile."Sounds like fun," said Harry.

Reubus beamed.

The trio continued their lighthearted chat as they walked towards the castle. Only a month has passed since the memorial service but Hogwarts felt different. It was livelier somehow. It felt like it did before Voldemort's return. Some of the magic they experienced as first year students was back, further proof that the dark days were gone; hopefully forever.

* * *

Severus set aside his plate and adjusted his covers. Pomfrey informed him that she would be dining in the Great Hall that night, but told him to ring her if he began to feel poorly. Of course, the wizard had no intention on calling her for any reason. The longer she stayed away the better. He respected the Matron as a healer, but he craved privacy.

"Would the Professor care for some dessert?" the elf asked, removing his tray.

"No, I'm fine. I just want to be alone."

"As the Professor pleases, I go now."

The house servant winked out of the infirmary. For the first time in weeks, Severus was alone. He cuffed his hands behind his head and breathed a sigh of relief.

_Four more days_ … He thought.

Pomfrey agreed to release him at the end of the week if he did everything she asked without complaint. Naturally, Severus agreed to her terms, minus the complaint stipulation.

Snape was looking forward to returning to the dungeons. It may have been cold, grimy and spooky down there, but therein laid the irony. The sublevels were just like him, understated and underappreciated. More importantly, they were within striking distance of his Slytherin charges to which he would be resuming command.

Snape wasn't well enough to return to Spinners End, but he planned to make the best of his holiday by restocking his stores and organizing his old office. No doubt, Slughorn made of mess of things.

The wizard spent years perfecting his potions craft and now that the war was over, he wanted to resume his art. Now that the Dark Lord was dead, the DADA position no longer appealed to him. Potion making was his passion, the only real passion he had left.

As Severus was making plans to leave the infirmary, his mind flashed unexpectedly. He saw the void … its blackness … its nothingness. He felt the emptiness and then the light … the smell of honeysuckles filled his nostrils along with the sight of a country road … green pastures … and a tatty wooden fence. There was a graying, black man dressed in plain robes smiling in the distance …

_Love is your only service to me_ … the voice said.

Soon the wind began to roar. It pushed him back into the black … away from the stranger. Before he knew it, Severus was back in his bed.

The wizard sprang forward. The sleepless dream had been so real, real enough to make him question his mental well-being. He wasn't a seer. He wasn't prone to visions. So what just happened? Severus dismissed the episode in favor of a walk and reached for his slippers. All this confinement was driving him mad! As he was putting on his shoes, Harry and Hermione entered.

"Professor?"

Snape closed his eyes and froze. He recognized the voice immediately.

_Oh, please don't be … _

Very slowly, he glanced back.

"Potter."


	5. Visiting Snape

Snape slipped back into bed and adjusted his covers. There was a trace of something unfamiliar in his expression, but Harry couldn't make it out. Years later, he would look back on that moment and know that it was mortification.

"Mister Potter," the wizard said calmly.

Harry advanced, leaving Hermione to observe by the entrance. The miracle of seeing him alive was a surreal experience. Except for the bandages, hospital garb, and added gauntness, he looked very much the way he did before he supposedly died.

"Hello, sir. Were you going somewhere?" Harry asked.

Snape did not respond. He merely glared at the boy whose life he saved more times than he could count. Actually, he could count the times, but he refused too on principle. Snape wanted to tell Potter to leave, but after his recent vision, he couldn't be certain if he was real. Was he hallucinating again? He desperately hoped so.

_Poetic … the boy-who-lived is here to see the man-who-helped-him-stay-alive._

About that time, Snape noticed Granger lurking in the background. He scoffed immediately.

_Terrific! He brought reinforcements. _

Hermione was dressed in Muggle clothes that included a lacy pink camisole, light jacket and jean capris. She was also wrapped tighter than a Goblin's fist around a galleon. Was she afraid?

Harry took a few steps forward before turning to his friend and shooting her a 'stop lollygagging' look. Hermione unfroze and joined the wizard. It felt wrong. It felt as if they were intruding somehow. Snape wasn't the friendliest of beasts and dying wasn't going to change that, though she earnestly hoped for a smooth visitation.

"We read about your _recovery_ in the Daily Prophet and came as quickly as we could."

Snape arched his brow mockingly.

"Why?"

Harry slid his hands into his pockets and looked to Hermione. She was blank a page too. Neither of them knew what to expect when they arrived but they should have guessed that his body wasn't the only thing that survived; it seemed his venomous sarcasm was on the rebound as well.

"You look good, Professor. I mean you, um … you look like your old self," he said nervously.

Snape looked on boringly. He knew he looked dreadful. His skin was on the jaundice side of sallow and his hair was a disgusting mess. His dark, sunken eyes only emphasized the problem, which everyone politely overlooked. He was in desperate need of a good bath and a fattening meal. Cleansing charms and gruel just wasn't cutting it.

"Harry's right! You've gotten most of your color back," Hermione smiled.

Snape mocked the witch with absurd expression, causing her to shrink. He knew a lie when he heard one and flattery, despite its many uses, did not work on him.

"I dare say, Miss Granger, you are a cool liar …"

Hermione gasped.

"Honestly, Professor … I wasn't …"

"What do you want, Mister Potter?" asked Snape, cutting the witch off.

Hermione clenched her fists. He was right of course, but why did he have to call her out? She was only trying to be nice.

"When we learned about your …" Harry paused.

"_Continued existence_?" Snape offered.

"Ahem, yes," he said uncomfortably. "Well, um … we just wanted to see how you were doing."

"As you can see, Mister Potter, I am _doing_ fine. I do not require your misguided sense of sympathy or worse, your pity. You may return and tell your associates that you've done a good deed, but sadly, Gryffindor will not be receiving extra points."

"We're not here for extra credit, Professor!" snapped Harry, surprising both Hermione and Snape. "We found out you were alive and wanted to see you!"

"Again, I ask you, why?"

"Because you're a hero … and I ... everyone that is, owes you so much," he admitted.

Severus resisted the urge to vomit. It was worse than he imagined. The boy had idolized him in some twisted way. That's just what he needed, the son of James Potter calling him a 'hero' … _ugh_. If he wasn't careful, the brat might try to bond with him!

"I think I might vomit," he said, his words mimicking his thoughts. "I do not crave or require your attention, affection, or appreciation. I need nothing from a _Potter_! Have you not considered what your no-good father would say if he were here right now?"

Harry was tempted to tell the Professor 'not' to speak about his father that way, but now wasn't the time. Snape had good reason to dislike him, though he should have gotten over it a long time ago.

"Whatever," Harry grumbled. "I just wanted to thank you for protecting me all those years. None of us, not me, not the Order, not even Dumbledore could have done it without you. You, more than anyone, helped to bring down Lord Voldemort."

Snape jerked his chin defiantly. Surely, the boy wasn't a complete idiot. He must have realized that none of it was for "him" or even "them".

"I know what you're thinking, Professor. You didn't do it for me, but I also know that if _she _were here right now _she_ would be grateful and proud."

Severus's mouth became unhinged. He couldn't even look at the boy without wanting to hex him so he observed the nightstand with more interest than it deserved. He didn't know whether to feel embarrassed or angry, but he quickly decided the latter would serve him best.

Severus focused on the small bell that Poppy left for him. She told him to use it, if he needed her for anything. Though he had no intention or desire to bother her that evening, it was critical that she return. Severus reached over rang the bell precisely three times. Seconds later, Pomfrey appeared through the floo and hurried to her patient's bedside.

"What is it, Severus? What's wrong?"

"Could you please show my visitors out?" he tiredly requested.

Pomfrey followed the wizard's pointy finger towards Potter and Granger standing a few feet away and frowned. No one notified her of the Gryffindors arrival. McGonagall's doings no doubt.

"Mister Potter. Miss Granger. My patient needs his rest." She kindly informed. "You must go now."

"But we just got here," Harry protested.

"Be that as it may, Professor Snape is in no condition to receive visitors at this time. Had someone notified me of your plans to visit, I could have spared you the trip. I must ask that you come back another day."

"Preferably not at all," Snape coldly interjected.

Poppy shot the wizard a stern look. She detested rudeness, although she understood that it was engrained in the wizard. He just wasn't a pleasant man.

Harry lingered for a moment. He had so much on his mind, so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't now that Pomfrey was there. She would never allow it them to stay, even for a little while. Her charges came first.

"Yes, of course. We understand. We're sorry if we put you out, Professor. I'll talk with you later."

"Unless you want to spend your _8th _year in detention, think on that," snorted Snape.

Harry accepted the wizard's answer with a nod and turned away. He wasn't angry, just disappointed. Hermione followed, but kept her eyes trained on the Professor as they ventured out. Severus met her curious stare with one of his own. Surprisingly, it was not enough to make her look away.

"Insolent witch…" he muttered.

* * *

Appearing mildly defeated, the Gryffindors made their way to the stairwell.

"Well … that went well," said Harry, forcing a smile.

Hermione faked one back.

"I'm shocked he didn't hex us on sight!"

"I checked. He didn't see his wand," Harry joked.

"Seriously, Harry, what did you expect?"

"I don't know…" he shrugged. "Second chances don't come along every day. Especially, for snarky wizards who spend the better part of their lives involved in espionage. Now that he's finally free, I hoped we could patch our differences."

"You don't ask for much, do you?" the witch replied, nudging his shoulder playfully.

Harry grinned.

"Maybe I should've brought cookies? That might've helped to smooth things over," he said.

"Yes, I'm sure Professor Snape would have appreciated that. I saw him eating a pumpkin patsy once. Maybe the elves could bake some and you could send it to him anonymously? If you do, don't forget to include a lovey-dovey, get well soon card."

Harry was laughing on the outside, but inwardly he wondered how Snape might react to a gift like that. Knowing the Professor, he'd probably throw it out the nearest window.

"Say Harry, did you notice anything strange about Professor Snape?"

"You mean aside from the fact that he's alive?" he quipped.

"I'm serious, Harry."

"No, but I take it you did."

"It wasn't what I saw, it's what I felt. He felt different."

"Different, how?" the young wizard asked, suddenly curious.

Hermione shrugged. She didn't have anything substantial to go on, just her gut feeling and her gut said something was different.

"I don't know … he's just different that's all."

"Well, he acted, looked and sounded like the old Snape to me. Come to think of it ... he may have been a smidgen nastier," said Harry, grimacing over the idea.

"So, do you think the Board of Governors will reinstate him as Headmaster?" she said, changing the subject.

"Gosh, I hope not. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful to the wizard for everything he did, but let's face it, Gryffindors make much better Headmasters. Besides, I think he'll have to duel McGonagall for the position. Now that she's finally Headmistress, I doubt she will want to relinquish her authority."

The 'grateful' comment got Hermione thinking again. After they reached the first floor, she paused.

"What did you mean back there when you said 'she' would be grateful and proud?"

"Oh, it was nothing," said Harry.

"It's me you're talking too, remember?"

"It's nothing, really. I meant to say _he_. I was referring to Professor Dumbledore," he lied.

"It didn't sound like a slip. I heard it in your voice. You said 'she' would be grateful."

"Hermione…" Harry said with an exasperated breath.

"Ha! Now, I know it's someone!"

"It's personal."

"I'm your friend, Harry. You can tell me," she told him, gently taking his arm.

"It's nothing."

"But …"

Harry stepped away and began towards the grounds.

"Come on, Hagrid is waiting on us."


	6. Little Helper

Harry and Hermione bid Hagrid goodbye and flew back to the Weasleys early the next morning. The flight seemed much longer now that the excitement was behind them rather than ahead. They flew straight and hard, making it back in time for lunch.

Harry found the Weasleys less than supportive of his decision to visit once he shared what happened. They weren't unkind or anything. They just didn't seem surprised by his reaction.

"Serves you right," said Molly, removing his plate. "Snape did wonderful things for the Wizarding World, but lest you forget; he did a lot of terrible things too! He is and always will be a Death Eater!"

"Now, Molly ... that's hardly fair! Severus is a fine wizard and from what Harry says, a hero. There is no reason to bring up the past. He's more than atoned for it," Arthur put forth.

"Fine wizards don't act that way, Arthur! He practically spit in poor Harry's face, the same young man who brought down Lord Voldemort! He should've been congratulating him… not kicking him out of the infirmary! He's an incorrigible man. Severus Snape should be thankful he is alive, not moping about ungratefully," Mrs. Weasley said bitterly.

Molly couldn't help but think of Fred. From her point of view, it seemed terribly unfair that a former Death Eater should be walking around while her young son lay in the ground. Arthur returned to his newspaper. There was no point in arguing with his wife, especially over something that amounted to little more than an opinion. Severus Snape may have been an unpleasant man, but he was a good wizard. In time, she would come to see that.

Harry wisely refrained from saying anything more on the subject and sipped his pumpkin juice.

A short time later, he noticed Ron noticing Hermione. She was picking over her potatoes absently. Harry had a feeling he knew what was wrong. She hated not being in the 'know' and his refusal to confide in her the previous night was driving her mad. Now that he thought about it, perhaps he should have gone to visit Snape alone.

"Something wrong?" asked Ron, breaking Hermione's concentration.

"No, of course not …why do you ask?"

Mr. Weasley overheard the question and lowered his paper. He was only staring at the print anyway.

"What is it, dear? Are you feeling well?" he joined in.

One by one, the table focused on the witch. Molly stopped washing dishes, picked up a hand towel and walked over. Was something wrong with the gravy? Suddenly, Hermione felt very uncomfortable. She didn't mean to draw attention to herself; she was just trying to make sense of Snape's miraculous return.

"Oh, it's nothing. I'm fine, really. I was just thinking," Hermione said truthfully.

"About?" Molly pried.

"I was thinking about, Professor Snape." She awkwardly confessed. "His life … his return … it's all so amazing!"

"Well, thoughts of Snape will do that to an appetite," George mused, drawing a snicker from the others. "Maybe he should market his photo as a diet solution for overweight witches. He'd make a bloody fortune!"

"George," Arthur said in a mock-serious tone.

"George!" Ginny laughed.

Harry smiled, but didn't comment.

Molly waved her son off and returned to the kitchen while Mr. Weasley quietly observed Hermione. Her answer was perfectly acceptable, but he sensed there was more to it than that.

Hermione returned to her meal. She gobbled it down in an effort to appear undisturbed, but inwardly, she was struggling to understand the mystery behind Snape's recovery. It didn't seem possible. Moreover, who was the female Harry mentioned? There was a hint of mortification in Snape's eyes when he brought her up. In fact, it was only afterwards that he called Pomfrey.

Everyone was aware that Snape had been friends with Harry's mother, but no one understood the extent of that friendship or his unrequited feelings for her. They didn't realize that everything he did, he 'did' in her memory. No one would've guessed that he loved her so deeply. It was just too creepy to connect. All anyone knew for sure was that he had a friend once and that friendship meant more to him than the Dark Lord.

* * *

Snape could walk but he didn't have much strength. He tired easily and cramped often. It seemed the road to recovery would take longer than expected, but he would not allow it to drag on forever.

Nagini's poison had broken down his muscles causing some tissue deterioration, but thankfully, there was no foreseeable long-term damage. Physical therapy was an option, but that kind of rehabilitation was a muggle practice and therefore, seldom used in the Wizarding World. Wizards preferred medicinal herbs, magic, and the healing power of time to muggle methods.

Severus's release came with a few rules that included regular checkups for the first couple of weeks. Pomfrey also insisted that Severus use a cane until he regained the full use of his limbs. The Headmistress was more than willing to pull rank on her employee by insisting that he respect the nurse's conditions. She even went so far as to make it a requirement for his continued professorship.

"I require that my Professors be in good health. You can either work with Poppy or sit out the fall term," she stated.

It was a hard concession, but once Severus realized it was either 'do' or 'don't bother', he grudgingly agreed.

Snape's cane bared the brunt of his weight as he stood inside the Potion's office doorway. He was less than pleased to find a soiled cauldron, wasted materials, and loose supplies lying about. Slughorn wasn't the tidiest wizard known to man, but given the state of disarray, it seemed the old coot was more interested in retirement than reputation. He obviously didn't care about appearances.

"The lazy lout," Snape grumbled. "He could have cleaned up before he left!"

In all fairness, the office wasn't that bad, but Snape's standards were higher than most. He equated sloppiness to incompetence and though he respected the wizard's talents, he found Slughorn's sense of professionalism lacking.

Frowning, the Potions Master shuffled into the room and closed the door. He was mobile yes, but hardly agile. Snape forced himself to walk as normally as possible, relying on his cane as little possible, but that was proving more difficult with each step.

Snape took a labored breath as he sat down. His legs were cramping badly. The journey from infirmary had been exhausting, but as far as he was concerned, worth it. He was glad to be away from all the attention and fuss. He wasn't the kind of man that enjoyed it.

"At last," he said quietly, shutting his eyes for a moment. The wizard truly detested his feebleness, but it seemed for the time being, he would have to endure certain limits.

"Can I gets you anything, Professor?" a small voice said.

Snape's eyes sprang open. He looked down to find a big pair of blue eyes gazing back up at him expectantly. Normally, he would have been angry to have his privacy intruded upon, but he was immediately struck by the fact he'd never seen this particular elf before.

"Who the _hell_ are you?" he tactlessly blurted.

The elf lowered her eyes.

"Olivia, sir."

Snape immediately slipped into investigative mode.

"Olivia, is it? I don't recall seeing you before," he said accusingly.

"Olivia is new!" she replied. "Olivia is very helpful. Olivia cooks, irons, mends, but mostly, Olivia does laundry," said the elf, ogling the wizard's robes meaningfully.

Snape studied the House Elf for several long seconds. She had to be new. The other elves knew better than to enter his office uninvited.

"I don't need anything. Go away," he told her.

The elf did not move. After a moment, Snape's eyes became hard.

"I said I don't need anything!" he snapped.

The force of his objection pained him enough that he winced, but still the elf did not budge.

"Then Olivia waits until you do," she told him.

"GO AWAY!" he snarled.

Olivia folded her arms and shook her head no.

"The Headmistress said Olivia is supposed to watch over Professor Snape, and that is what Olivia is going to do."

Whatever pain Severus felt quickly vanished. Trembling slightly, he made it to his feet and shuffled unsteadily towards the hearth. Once there, he waved his hand over the flames, turning the orange embers blue.

"Minerva!" he shouted.

"Yes, Severus, what is it?"

"Did you assign an elf to me?"

"Yes, but …"

"I don't need a bloody elf! If I wanted to be coddled, I would have stayed in the infirmary under the care of a professional!"

Olivia dropped her head. Snape wasn't looking so he didn't see the effect his words had on her. She was a young elf, but a good one. Her previous master died before she had a chance to prove her worth. With no living relatives to inherit her, the Ministry of Magic ordered her to report to Hogwarts.

"If you'd just give her a chance, I am sure you will find Olivia most helpful. She needs something to do until school begins and frankly, you need assistance until you are fully recovered."

"I am not a child!"

"I don't know about that. You certainly are acting like one!"

"Take 'her' back!"

"Don't tell me what to do, Severus! It just so happens that I have a very good reason for assigning her to you. What if you should slip, bump your head and lose consciousness? We wouldn't know about it until you failed to report for your next checkup. The last thing this school needs right now is another damaging news article questioning the staff's motives regarding your care!" McGonagall harshly reminded.

Severus fell silent for a moment. He hadn't considered how it might look if he were injured. Rita Skeeter would undoubtedly pounce on the first opportunity blast Hogwarts and McGonagall to bits. The famed reporter was an unscrupulous glory hound after all. Perhaps, Minerva was just looking out for her best interests. As a Slytherin, he could respect that.

"I don't like it," he gruffly spat. "I don't need help."

"Well, you've got it! I'm not rescinding my order and that's final!"

Severus settled on a scowl. There was no use in making the situation worse by making Minerva angrier. Perhaps, he should have considered his words more carefully. Maybe he should have tried appealing to her Gryffindor soft heartedness, instead of flying off the broomstick.

"How long?" he asked, feigning a civil tone.

"Until you are well," she said. "Now if you will please excuse me, I have work to do! Good day."

"One last thing …"

The embers regained their orange glow, which told the wizard that the conversation was over. This served to irritate the already irritated man, but he blew it off with a scoff.

* * *

Smirking, McGonagall moseyed back to her desk.

"I believe it's your move," she told the portrait on the wall.

"Minerva, I do believe that you have a touch of Slytherin in you," Dumbledore winked.

"I have learned that when it relates to Slytherins, it is best to apply Slytherin logic. It is all they understand. Had I told him the truth, the argument would have go on for hours!"

Albus chuckled. "Knight to C5," he told the board. "Yes, you're right. Severus has never put much stock in empathy, but then, few have ever truly cared for him."

Minerva blushed. She knew the old man was referring to her on some level. There was a time she would have been happy to see Severus sent Azkaban, but now, she understood everything. Undoubtedly, the future would look more favorably on Severus Snape, having the benefit of the past to guide them, but for now, they would need to adapt to the idea of a Slytherin hero.

"Queen to E6," she said primly.

* * *

Snape turned towards Olivia, but did not look down. "The Headmistress informs me that you are to stay," he needlessly announced.

Olivia hung her head and kicked her foot. Like it or not, they were stuck with each other.

"I suppose I should give you a task, something to keep you out of my hair …" he said testily.

The elf perked up.

"Clean up this place. You may begin with the cauldrons. They should be scrubbed with salt and rinsed with cool water to prevent cracking," he ordered.

"Olivia will get started right now!" she said excitedly.

Snape contained his sneer and limped back to his seat. He had hoped to spend the remainder of his summer in solitude, but it didn't look as if that was going to happen. All he could do to salvage the time left was to make the best of a bad situation.


	7. Secrets

Snape struck his cane against the floor. "Olivia," he bellowed.

The elf scurried into view.

"Where is my dissecting kit?"

Olivia shot the wizard a wide grin.

"Olivia put it in the bowl to wash," she proudly admitted, pointing to the corner of the room.

Severus slowly glanced over. He slowly cringed when he spotted several, jumbled objects soaking in the gargoyle basin.

"You put it where?" he muttered disbelievingly.

Olivia's grin faded.

Snape gripped his cane so hard that his knuckles began to turn white. "Centaur steel should be cleansed with oil or it will rust you … you," he seethed. "That kit has survived twenty-five years of potion making and Merlin knows how many idiot students …"

"Olivia is very, very sorry, Professor …" she said, backing away.

Snape glared at his teary helper hatefully. "But it seems it will not survive one simple minded elf!" he finished.

"Olivia is bad, very bad. Olivia will ... will punish herself!" she stammered.

She never had to punish herself before. How does one do that?

Severus wanted to hex the elf, but he didn't have the strength. Although he was well on his way to recovery, he tired easily. Magic, no matter how miniscule, required a lot of energy. The wizard was barely able to contain his frustration as he turned and shuffled back to his desk. He didn't respond to Olivia, nor did he assign her a new task. For an elf, there was no greater reprimand.

Olivia's eyes filled with tears. "Olivia is sorry ..." she sniffed.

* * *

Hermione sat on the bank and read a magazine while her friends took turns practicing their cannon balls. She was tired of swimming and decided to spend the remainder of the afternoon engrossed in Spells Weekly. There was a fascinating article on Vincent Price, a well known spell creationist. He'd recently received the Wizarding Guild Award for a defensive spell he nicknamed, Excalibur.

"Hermione, come on! You're missing all the fun!" said Harry, sloshing around in the water.

"I'm tired. I just want to read," the witch answered, not taking her eyes off the column.

About that time, Ron launched himself out of nearby tree and into the pond. His caveman holler turned into a high pitch squeal as he hit the water. It looked as if he was going for impressive, but his athletic prowess evaporated at the last second.

"You're such a girl," Ginny giggled.

Bill inched to the edge of the branch and readied himself. "Look out!" he told his siblings as he leaped. Ron had just emerged when a giant splash of water forced him back underneath.

"Good story?" asked Harry, taking a seat next to his friend.

"Yes. It's about Excalibur. Have you heard of it?"

The wizard paused to think. "You mean the sword of King Arthur? Hermione, I'm British." He said sardonically.

The witch rolled her eyes and closed the magazine. "No, Mr. Britain, I was referring to the new spell by Vincent Price."

"Um, no – I can't say I have," he colored.

Judging by his lukewarm response, Hermione deduced the wizard wasn't interested in hearing anymore. He was a lot like Ron in that respect. They were bright wizards in their own right, but not over achievers in the academic sense.

The pair relaxed in the sun and watched the others swim. The day was winding down and they'd have to pack up soon, but what an afternoon!

"Harry …" Hermione began, mesmerized by the orange shimmers. "Will you please tell me about the woman you spoke of to Professor Snape? He reacted so strangely when you mentioned her."

Harry was lost in the tranquility of the scene until that moment. "What?" he said ineptly. "Where did that come from?"

"Nowhere, I guess. The thought just popped into my head," she lied.

"Hermione, I told you already … I don't want to discuss it. Will you please drop it," he said annoyingly.

"Harry, why won't you tell me?"

"Because it's none of your business," he blurted.

Hermione swung around so fast that her sun-bleached locks wrapped around her face. She was on the verge of scolding the wizard for his audacity when he interrupted.

"I'm sorry! That came out wrong," he apologized. "I just don't want to talk about it, okay?"

The witch closed her mouth and looked away. She was still miffed, but the apology helped.

"Fine," she said dryly.

Harry refused to let Hermione's nosiness get the best of him but he _had_ to make her understand that it wasn't anything personal. He was obligated to protect Snape's memories and feelings. He had cherished his mother and no one, not even his best friends, were privy to that information. They knew enough already.

"Hermione, there are things that I have not shared with you and the rest of the world, but I did what I thought was best. Some of those things I know Professor Snape would never want revealed. I'm sorry if that offends you, but it's nothing personal. Now, will you please stop nagging me?"

The witch relaxed.

"I can accept that," she said quietly. "I just don't like being out of the loop. So, you really haven't told anyone else?"

"No, I haven't and don't feel like you're being left out of the 'loop'. It's not a secret or anything… it's a matter of respect. I owe it to Professor Snape to protect his privacy."

"Don't you think that kind of knowledge might shed some light on his heroism? It might help people to understand him better …"

"Oh, come off it," Harry snapped. "If you want to know that badly, GO ask Snape. Honestly, you're starting to sound an awful lot like Rita Skeeter!"

Hermione's eyes rounded. "WHAT? I'm nothing like that cow!" she yelped.

Of course, Harry didn't mean what he said. He was just sick of her pestering him. She'd been after him since they left Hogwarts.

Hermione calmed down when she realized everyone was gawking, but the insinuation stung. Rita was a foul, devious cockroach! How could he even think they were in the same class? She didn't know whether to feel embarrassed or outraged, but she quickly regretted her persistence when Harry stood up to leave.

"I'm going back in," he murmured.

"Harry …" she tried.

Harry heard the witch, but kept walking. A few minutes later, Ron joined Hermione on the bank.

"Say, what's up with Harry?" he asked, wiping the water from his face.

"He won't answer my question," Hermione replied.

Ron looked back at Harry. If he didn't want to tell Hermione something, that was his business.

"What was the question? Maybe I know the answer," he offered, trying to be helpful.

Hermione shook her head. "It's nothing," she said.

"If it's nothing then why were you and Harry arguing?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. She really wasn't sure.

"Hermione, I'm your boyfriend. You can tell me."

Ron mentally kicked himself for the blunder. Yes, they were a couple, but it wasn't official or anything.

"It's about Professor Snape. There is something Harry isn't telling us … possibly the reason for everything."

The wizard took a moment to shake the water out of his ears. "Okay, let me get this straight … we're all out here, trying to have a good time and all you can think about is Professor Snape and the war?"

"I knew you wouldn't understand," she griped. "It's just …"

"Hermione, I care about you, but I'm with Harry on this. You need to relax. We only have a few more weeks of summer left. Stop worrying about things that don't matter."

Hermione colored, partly because she was hot, and partly because Ron was right. For once, the wizard sounded his age.

In truth, Ron wanted tell Hermione to put a sock in it, but that might have led to hex or worse, an argument. He was tired of thinking about the war and everything connected to it. He was fed-up with all the conspiracy theories and heroic bologna. He was also sick of feeling guilty that he survived when so many good people died.

"I promise … whatever heroic notions you have about Snape will evaporate when he is crawling up your arse and striping points away! You'll see."

Hermione made a face. _Crawling up my arse?_

Ron leaned over and offered his hand. "Come on, let's go cool off. Bill and Fleur have to go soon, and it's getting late. If you want – you can ride back with me later," he told her.

Hermione offered the wizard a weak smile. "Sounds like fun," she said.

* * *

Rita Skeeter waited until it was dark to approach the borders of Hogwarts. Her errand boy and photographer, Dwayne Thomas, followed closely.

"How are you planning to get inside?" Dwayne asked.

"I am going in Animagus form," she told him.

"Don't they have wards to prevent that sort of thing?"

"That's why you're here. I need you to distract the caretaker. When he comes out of the gate I'll latch onto his trousers and piggyback inside."

"Brilliant! What then?"

Rita smiled devilishly. "I'll have to find Snape. It shouldn't be too difficult. With no students around, he'll probably be in his quarters. My sources tell me that he took up residence in the dungeons."

The confused looking wizard scratched his head.

"What if he refuses to talk to you?"

"He won't," the pretty witch chuckled. "I can be quite persuasive when I choose. All I need is access to the wizard."

"What am I supposed to do while you're gone?"

"I want you to wait in the forest. Under no circumstances are you to enter. You'll blow everything."

"Yes, ma'am …" said the photographer, pausing briefly. "But what if you run into trouble? I heard he's a nasty piece of work!"

"Deary, I'll be fine. Just do as I tell you."

Rita and Dwayne approached the gate and waited for Dwayne's patronous to make its way up to the castle.

"Someone should be down shortly. Just stick to the plan," the reporter said before transforming.

Dwayne spotted the caretaker, Mr. Filch, hobbling towards the entrance. The squib wasn't terribly old, but he walked in such a manner that suggested he was feeble; perhaps, plagued with arthritis.

"What's your business here!" he growled.

"Good evening, sir. My name is Dwayne Thomas. I'm here to see Professor McGonagall," the wizard lied.

"Is that so? Do you have an appointment, Mr. Thomas?"

"Um, no sir. I'm with the Daily Prophet."

"We don't let strangers inside without an appointment! Now go away and come back when you have permission to be here," Filch said nastily.

"Yes, sir – I understand. I'm sorry if I troubled you. The newspaper didn't tell me I needed an appointment."

"Are you that thick, boy? Of course, you need an appointment!"

Dwayne played along. He didn't mind being called stupid, so long as he got what he wanted and right now, he wanted to lure the caretaker outside so Rita could bum a ride, but how?

Suddenly, the wizard had an idea. He pulled out his map and studied it closely. It was a Ministry approve guide to the school, commonly issued to parents and visitors but he and Rita used it to navigate the forest. Had their presence been legitimate, they would have arrived by port key. Members of the press generally traveled that way.

"Sir, could you please help me read this? Someone said that you were pretty much an expert on maps," Dwayne said in a flattering tone.

The caretaker's face softened. It just so happened that he was good with maps.

"What kind of map is it?" he asked, holding up his lantern for a better look.

"It's a map of the forest, but I'm not sure where this road leads," he pointed, knowing full and well the old coot couldn't see anything from where he was standing.

Argus slowly unlocked the gate and stepped outside. "Let me see," he grumbled, snatching the paper from Dwayne's hands.

Filch made a big production of studying the map. He sighed and grumbled as he looked over the familiar terrain, trying to decide the quickest and safest passage to Hogsmeade. While he was doing that, Rita made her move. She fluttered over and attached herself to the caretaker's boot.

"Take this road here, it's the safest. You shouldn't run into any problems." Filch said, handing the wizard his map back.

Dwayne smiled graciously.

"Thank you, sir. I really appreciate your help!"

Filch grumbled something under his breath.

"Go, get lost –- come back when you have an appointment!"

"I'll do that," said Dwayne, backing up.

Argus waited until Thomas was out of sight before he turned and headed back inside.

"Bastard reporters," he murmured.


	8. Rita Revealed

After his checkup, Snape left the infirmary and headed back to the dungeons. He planned to spend his evening putting together a supply list and cataloging the potions currently in stock. Afterwards, he'd have Olivia organize the shelves.

Hm. Olivia. She was proving to be more menacing than helpful. Luckily, he would only have to endure her incompetence for a few more weeks. Minerva agreed to reassign the blundering elf before the start of the school year.

Unbeknownst to the Potions Master, he was being followed.

_Worm root… I should have plenty of that … pixie wings … I don't remember seeing any of those … cannabis ... I can only hope Professor Slughorn didn't take that with him …_

Smiling, Alpha listened to the wizard's thoughts. He had been monitoring him closely since his return. It didn't seem as if he was making any progress, but he was nothing if not patient. Severus had no tangible memory of what took place; just a series of fragmented images. Naturally, he chalked it all up to a strange hallucination brought on by vast amounts of poison in his blood stream.

Snape turned the corner and began down the stairwell leading to the dungeons. His mind was hard at work. Ironically, work was all he had to think about now. The Dark Lord was dead and his obligation to Dumbledore … or Lily rather, had been fulfilled. There was little for him to do except exist and if that's all he had to look forward too, he would make his existence as efficient as possible.

Al knew what was waiting for Severus in his office, but he made no attempt to warn the wizard. It was not his practice to interfere, but to weigh a person's reaction to an event. His encounter with the deceptive blonde would serve as a test. Would he offer the conniving witch a merciful retreat? Freedom of will … it was definitely a double edge sword.

Severus entered his office ready to work on his organizational project.

"Olivia!" he called, closing the door behind him.

"She's asleep," a woman's voice said.

Snape spun around. He was both shocked and annoyed to find Miss Skeeter sitting in his chair. The attractive journalist was smiling suggestively as she admired her 'story' from afar.

"Miss Skeeter," he greeted with more coolness than he felt.

"Hello, Professor Snape."

"What are you doing in my office?" the wizard said coldly. "For that matter, what are you doing in Hogwarts?"

"I needed to see you, dearest. I'm all about the news and you my friend are the juicy news."

"Friend? We have no such association," he said evenly. "What did you do with my elf?"

"Your elf? Don't you mean the school's elf?"

"Olivia is assigned to me. Where IS she?" he hissed.

"I told you, she's asleep. I discovered her underneath the desk. Poor thing … she looked as if she'd been crying for hours. I put up a silencing charm so we … _she_ wouldn't be disturbed."

Snape instantly recalled the incident from earlier. Elves had a tendency to become depressed when they did something wrong. Some would even punish themselves. No doubt, Olivia was grieving over her mistake.

_And rightfully, so. Stupid, elf!_

"Get out," he ordered.

Rita's smiled wavered a bit. It seemed the rumors about his unpleasantness were true, but she broke into his office so his annoyance was justified.

"What? I just arrived. Won't you at least hear my offer?"

Snape's frown slowly morphed into smirk.

"I don't do business with press whores," he said coolly.

Rita's perky face seemed to darken a bit.

"Press whore?" she repeated, tongue in cheek.

Even working witches didn't like to be called that name.

The blonde bombshell eyed the dark wizard like a preying a mantis. She wouldn't allow a tiny insult to distract her from her objective. In fact, any good journalist worth his weight in salt could turn a dead end into a possible lead. She hadn't planned on playing the role of the temptress but it wasn't beneath her to do so. Judging by his looks, it was unlikely the wizard saw much action.

Rita was wrong, of course. It wasn't that he seldom got laid, he never got laid. He wasn't a virgin, but it had been nearly two decades since he'd slept with a woman. And those instances, few as they were, had been with drunken barmaids. After Lily was killed, his conscience and unpopularity kept him celibate.

Rita stood up and sashayed across the room. Her movements were slow and deliberate, almost cat-like as she circled the wizard. Severus heard the witch was a tad flamboyant, so he didn't feel immediately alarmed.

"How may I put you at ease?" the witch cooed, stroking his buttons playfully.

_Why is she touching me?_

"Leave," he said flatly.

Rita put on her best sultry face.

"But I just want to talk. Don't you want to talk? It doesn't have to be about the war. We can talk about anything you want," running her polished finger down his vest coat. "It must get awfully lonely down here with only an elf for company. I'm much better company than elf, MUCH better company." She whispered.

Smarter yes, better no.

"I highly doubt that," Snape said coldly.

"How would you know unless you give me a chance?"

"Get OooUT …" he gasped, immediately stunned by the placement of her hand.

Severus gently removed the hand resting on his crotch and glared at the witch meaningfully.

"Oops, excuse me. I wasn't paying attention."

Severus swallowed hard, very hard as he recalled every ingredient needed to make Wolfbane. He found nothing about the journalist remotely appealing, but he was a man and basic biology had little to do with preference. Severus couldn't help but react.

"Leave," he said hoarsely.

"May I please stay for a while? I've gone to so much trouble to see you …"

Gripping his cane, Snape stumbled back and pointed towards the door.

"I'm warning _you_," he snarled.

It was easy to see that the wizard wasn't completely stable. Apparently, he was still recovering from his brush with death. This was good news. It meant that he probably didn't have the strength to physically or magically remove her from his office. It also meant that he would be unable to _perform_. That was even better news. Rita wasn't looking forward to sleeping with the revolting git, war hero or not.

Rita slipped off her shoes off and began to unbutton her blouse. Stunned, the wizard observed quietly. His silence became deafening when she allowed the silky material to drop onto the floor. Rita took her time rolling down the straps of her lacy blue bra, exaggerating every movement for his pleasure. She then unsnapped the back and flung it carelessly to the side. The journalist caressed her large breasts, drawing a cough from the wizard.

"Don't …" he colored.

Rita ignored his hoarse plea and snaked her skirt down. All men liked a good strip tease, but the proof was in the pudding. The wizard nearly came undone when she slipped off her panties and toss them aside.

"I just want to talk," she said, standing before him completely nude.

Although his mind was firmly against the decision, Snape's organ reacted strongly to the sight of her nakedness. In fact, his trousers were becoming painfully tight. Rita smiled. She had him.

"About?" he said breathlessly, his eyes drifting over her form.

The wizard struggled to regain control but it seemed his control was in the hands of a different head.

"Tell me, about yourself. I want to know everything," she purred.

Severus wasn't easily taken in by beautiful women, but this witch had uncovered a weakness; a weakness he didn't know he had. He was completely unprepared. Severus knew the reporter was using him, possibly making a fool of him in the process, but these kinds of opportunities didn't come around everyday. Not for him anyway.

Rita moseyed forward, closing the gap between their bodies. Again, she was working off the assumption that he would not be able to perform. She quickly realized her mistake when she felt his hardness. The wizard was a few pulses away from bursting out of his trousers! The blonde faked a lustful smile. She'd done worse things for a story.

Severus's heart was pounding in his chest, which frankly, he found shocking. It didn't feel as if he had any blood left. Rita leaned forward and began to nibble on the exposed portion of his neck just above his collar. Severus became very rigid, but despite his staunch pride, made no attempt to stop her. For the first time in a long time, he indulged himself.

"Mm …" he groaned, blissfully unaware that he had spoken.

Snape tipped his chin and brushed his nose against her hair.

_Vanilla …_ he thought.

He maintained his lustful focus, but the fragrance reminded him of a secondhand store; a very cheap secondhand store.

"Gets away from him!" Olivia shouted.

Rita screamed and darted behind the Professor, scrambling to cover herself with his robe.

"You little ingrate! Go back into the other room!" she hissed.

The sudden intrusion forced Snape out of his sex induced fog.

"We thought you were asleep …" he feebly explained, mildly amused by Rita's reaction.

"Olivia wasn't asleep! The bad witch tied Olivia up and threw her under the desk!"

Rita took an exaggerated breath.

"That is a lie!"

"Is not!" the elf shouted back.

Snape raised his chin and slowly turned around.

"You attacked my elf?" he asked, arching his brow accusingly.

"It's not YOUR bloody elf!" she snapped, "Stop pretending like your some well-to-do pureblood! It's the school's elf. She's not even a quality elf! When I found her she was crying into a bucket of dirty mop water!" Rita spat, desperately trying to cover her exposed flesh with her hands.

Snape smiled. As a rule, if anyone dare broach the topic of his blood status they were in for a sound hexing, but he found the seedy journalist's rant amusing. It seemed she handled unexpected situations almost as badly as he did, if not worse.

"Give me back my clothes." Rita demanded with as much dignity as she could muster.

Snape paused to consider her request.

"I think not," he said carefully. "You tried to make a fool of me, now it's only fair that I return the favor."

The reporter grumbled something under her breath and moved around him, but Olivia beat her to the punch. She rushed forward, snatched the witch's clothes and dashed to the hearth. Olivia threw all her things into the fire, except for her wand and shoes.

Rita was beside herself with rage. So much in fact, that she began to quiver with fury as she watched her clothes go up in flames. For an elf to behave so insolently was an outrage, but what she failed to understand was that Olivia served Professor Snape. By all accounts, she was doing exactly what he wanted or at least, what she thought he wanted.

"You may keep your shoes, Miss Skeeter. I will mail your wand tomorrow … if I have time. Now, leave my office," Severus said blackly.

Embarrassed, Rita crept closer.

"I can't leave this way. I have someone waiting for me," she said pleadingly. "Please allow me a robe or a sheet!"

In truth, the witch would be humiliated if she returned naked AND empty handed. Dwayne was her loyal apprentice. He actually looked up to her. Or so she thought.

"First, you sneak into Hogwarts, then you break into my office, then you willfully attack an employee and now you expect pity?" said Snape, looking incredulously at the reporter.

Alpha watched patiently from the corner of the room.

Snape callously observed the trembling witch. Then, for no reason at all, something in him stirred ... decency, perhaps? Although he couldn't see or hear the old man, he was vaguely aware of his presence, like an imprint of a person or thought. The imprint communicated something to him, a feeling of sorts. Rita Skeeter would be dealt with in good time.

The Potions Master studied the witch closely, trying to commit as much of her nudity to memory as possible. She was a vile woman, but an attractive witch and it had been ages since he'd seen a woman in the flesh. He wanted nothing more than to bend her over his desk and shove 'it' in, but his physical prowess was in serious question. He had to wonder if he could even finish.

Sighing, the wizard turned and shuffled to the closet. Inside were dozens of protective garbs used for potion-making. Students who could not afford their own robes used the schools. He rummaged through the rack, searching for the dirtiest, smelliest smock he could find. Seconds later, he reappeared holding a short, black robe.

"Here!" he said, throwing Rita the soiled garment.

Olivia folded her arms and poked her bottom lip out. She wasn't happy with Snape's decision, but she knew better than to question it.

"Ewe …" said the reporter, gingerly holding the smock to the light.

"If you don't want it, give it back!" said Snape.

"No, no – this is fine, thank you ..."

Grimacing, the reporter quickly slipped on the dirty smock and looked nervously around the room. There was no way he was going to allow her to have her wand back. It would be like giving a prisoner a key to his cell and telling him not to use it.

"Ahem, I'll just go now," she said, inching towards the door.

Snape kept his eyes trained on the reporter. She made quick work of leaving, probably fearing he'd change his mind about the smock. He still had no clue how she got into the school and frankly, didn't care. He managed to dodge a serious mistake! With that in mind, Snape turned to his nuisance of a helper – emphasis on the _helper_.

"Didn't you tell me once that laundry was you're specialty?"

Olivia nodded.

Smiling, Snape glided over and offered the elf a pat on the head as he passed. It wasn't an affectionate pat, but it was enough to make Olivia swell with pride.

"Good work." he said.

* * *

Rita hurried across the grounds. She didn't want to run into the Headmistress, especially in her current state. They had a rather heated argument the last time they saw each other and Minerva threatened to hex her hair out if she ever trespassed onto school property again! Panting, the blonde witch made it safely to the entrance. She quickly transformed into a beetle and cleared the gate. Getting out was much easier than getting in.

"Dwayne!" she hissed.

Dwayne had fallen asleep by a nearby tree. He woke up and scrambled to his feet when he heard his employer calling his name. Moments later, he emerged from a small patch of woods. He was immediately stunned and amused by what he saw.

"Miss Skeeter, is that you?"

"Of course it's me, you idiot!" she said, stomping up.

"What happened?" the young wizard asked.

Rita tried to come up with a good excuse for why she was wandless, pissed off and wearing a smelly smock, but she was just too tired to explain.

"Never mind that," she hissed. "If you tell anyone about this … I'll … I'll …."

"No, Miss Skeeter! Cross my heart. Your secret is safe with me," he promised.

"It better be, now let's go."

Smiling to himself, Dwayne followed the witch into the woods. He let her have the lead in case they had to go up a hill or something. He hoped for a peek of what Professor Snape saw.

_Lucky bastard …_ he thought.

* * *

**A/C:** Happy Holidays Everyone!


	9. The Mudblood Haters

Snape decided against informing the Headmistress of what happened with the journalist. Reporting the incident would have prompted an inquiry, which would have led to an official affidavit. The last thing he wanted was for Minerva and the Board of Governors to learn of his less than stellar resolve. Snape considered omitting certain portions of the re-telling, but knowing the Headmistress the way he did, she would fly off the broomstick and confront the journalist. It wasn't worth the risk.

As agreed, Severus returned Rita's wand with a note informing her to stay away from him and Hogwarts. Any additional attempts to contact him would result in a formal complaint filed against her and the newspaper.

* * *

"Why that ugly troll!" Rita raged, throwing Snape's letter into the trash.

Dwayne was in the middle of a sip when he flinched and spilled his coffee. "What is it?" he asked, reaching for a napkin.

"Snape! That's what!" the reporter snapped.

"Did he turn you down?" the assistant asked innocently.

He had no idea that the wizard had turned her down in more ways than one. Knowing this, Rita refrained from biting his head off.

"Threatened is more like it! He told me to stay away from him or else."

"So … that takes care of him, huh?"

The blonde bombshell leaned back her chair.

"No …" she answered, clucking her tongue mid-thought.

The photographer scratched his chin. He hadn't worked with the witch long enough to recognize her scheming tone.

"As far as my article, An Unsung Hero, goes … yes," the witch clarified. "But there will be a story. The greasy bastard should've accepted my proposal!"

"What did you offer?" Dwayne prodded, hoping she might finally come clean about what happened.

Rita was too smart for the wizard's clumsy tactics. She refused to tell him anymore than he needed to know.

"I offered to make him a legend. The fool turned me away. No matter. Admiration is overrated. He will simply have to settle for notorious," she said, plotting the wizard's downfall.

Dwayne nodded his head knowingly, but he was clueless. He hoped the witch wasn't planning another excursion through the Dark Forest. He contracted a terrible rash along his backside last time. The wizard was a few strokes away from scratching himself raw.

"Cool," he replied.

* * *

The next couple of weeks passed quickly for everyone. Physically, Snape was making tremendous progress. Pomfrey reduced his medical checkups to once a month and lifted the stipulation that required him to use a walking apparatus. Unbeknownst to the healer, Severus had developed a certain fondness for his cane and took it with him whenever he ventured out. However, if asked, he planned to justify its continued use by saying that it served as a deterrent for small animals and would-be rule breakers.

The day came when Minerva reassigned Olivia. Upon Snape's recommendation, she was charged with handling Slytherin's laundry for the duration of the school term. He was glad to be rid of the nuisance, but more or less felt she deserved a bit of recognition for her assistance. After all, the elf had foiled Rita Skeeter's plans and remained tightlipped about doing so.

"Olivia thanks the Professor for speaking to the Headmistress! Olivia goes to work for Slytherin House now!" the elf said, full of gratitude and pride.

"Yes, yes -" the Potions Master gruffly responded. "But just because you work for my House doesn't mean I want you hanging around my office! Do you understand?"

"Olivia understands. Olivia is not to bother the Professor," she smiled.

_Not much anyway …_ she planned.

She was still attached to the idea of serving the wizard.

"Good. Now get out of my sight. The students will be arriving soon. You will have plenty to do after they get here."

The elf shot the wizard a cheesy grin and disappeared. Somewhat relieved, Snape focused on his syllabus in anticipation of returning to work. He hoped to bypass any romantic sensibilities anyone might have about his part in the war, but if not, he'd enjoy thwarting their opinions with a good browbeating. He wouldn't allow his highly publicized role as a spy to interfere with his teaching.

On a personal note, Snape wasn't sure how many, if any knew his true reasons for becoming involved with the Order. The torturous wonder had plagued him for most of the summer but with each passing day, the wizard grew more confident that Harry had kept his mouth shut. For that, he was grateful.

_I hope Potter doesn't think I owe him _… he snorted, grimacing over the thought.

After years of remorse, Severus could finally lay Lily's memory to rest. His childhood friend and first love would always be a part of him, but that chapter of his life was closed. She had been avenged and he had suffered for his mistakes. His debt had been repaid. May she rest in peace knowing that her son was now safe.

Snape reviewed every detail of the Potions curriculum one last time, appearing a bit smug as he did so. Once finished, he was satisfied that his newest dunderheads would be sufficiently engaged.

As Severus was preparing to leave, he paused to consider all the students who would be returning that term; including the boy wonder, Harry Potter. Many of the classes would be doubled as a result of advancing underclassmen. This created a bit of challenge, but not a problem. Severus enjoyed a good challenge. He would make it through the year and with any luck, he'd be rid of Potter forever.

_Perhaps, I should slip him a sterility potion ..._ he schemed, delighting in the thought.

* * *

Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione took their usual places beside each other at the Gryffindor table. After escorting Luna to the Ravenclaw section, Neville joined his housemates along with Finnigan and his group. Everyone was overjoyed to be back but for many, particularly those who fought in the war, an unspoken sadness loomed in the air.

Hagrid made quick work of escorting the first years inside. He kindly showed them to the front where they were sorted into their Houses using a compass Flitwick created. It took the Charms Professor all summer to fashion a substitute for the Sorting Hat. It was unclear whether it was as effective; only time would tell, but the new Sorting Hat seemed up to the challenge.

Gryffindor received ten new housemates, Slytherin seven, Ravenclaw nine and Hufflepuff a whopping fourteen. Professor Sprout was ecstatic. Surely, they stood a chance at winning the House Cup this year.

All the tables were alive with talk but the Gryffindor section was by far the most spirited. The chatter centered on Seamus's regaling of an outrageous tale about a dress, a drunk donkey and a wondrous escape.

"I managed to convince my dad that he was dreaming!" the wizard finished, ignited a row of laughter.

Harry sprayed the table with a gulp of pumpkin juice. The Patel girls were not amused as they scattered to avoid being blasted. Potter wasn't the only one rallying over Finnigan's humorous tale. All the kids were roaring uncontrollably. The teachers noticed the commotion, but said nothing. They were happy to see the students enjoying themselves.

Surprisingly, none of Harry's classmates asked him about the battle or the gruesome details surrounding the Dark Lord's death. They all assumed the 'Chosen One' was tired of talking about it and left him alone. There would be plenty of time for that later.

"Did he ever … find out … who took the whiskey?" Ron asked, holding his side as he gasped for air.

"Nah, he figured my mum drank it." said Seamus, struggling to remain in character.

He wanted to laugh, but that would ruin the story.

Still smiling, Hermione's attention drifted from the hysterical mirth to the High Table. Her eyes immediately settled on Professor Snape. He was sandwiched between Professors Flitwick and Sprout, appearing both uncomfortable and bored.

In all fairness, the wizard looked good … or better than he did. His skin had more color and it looked as if he had put on some weight. Naturally, it was the illusion of candlelight and several layers of robes, but she didn't know that.

"What's so interesting?" Harry asked, calming down a bit.

He noticed that his friend seemed miles away. Hermione flinched and turned around.

"Oh, um … nothing," she lied.

Potter narrowed his eyes suspiciously and peeked around the witch. He didn't see anything out of the ordinary, just a lot of hoopla and teachers engaged in idle chitchat. Before turning back, he spotted Snape's stony form seated near the Slytherin section. Harry smiled in the wizard's direction, hoping the gesture might register through the sea of faces.

About that time, Snape glanced over. His attention soon fell upon the noisy Gryffindor table. Though his features remained neutral, there was a flicker of something in eyes when he caught Potter leering at him happily.

_Why is that bloody idiot staring at me? _

"Well, Professor Snape is looking in the black," Ron commented as he strained to see over the crowd. "I suppose that's good."

Harry turned around.

"Yeah, I'm glad to see he's doing well."

One by one, Potter's neighbors stopped talking. Finnigan, Fletcher and the Patel girls looked incredulously at the wizard.

"What did you say?" Seamus blurted.

Harry quickly realized that his housemates were gawking.

"I said that I'm glad to see Professor Snape is doing well," he repeated.

"Why?" Finnigan asked, completely perplexed.

Ginny gently elbowed Harry. She halfway agreed with her boyfriend, but maybe this wasn't the place and time to sing Snape's praises.

"Because he contributed so much to the war," Potter staunchly replied.

Fletcher looked at Finnigan, Finnigan looked at his group and the Patel's looked away. Ron, Hermione, Neville and Ginny gazed evenly across the table. They had Harry's back.

"Look, he's still a git … an ugly, mean spirited, point-deducting, Slytherin …" Ron began.

"Ronald!" said Hermione, cutting him off.

"Um, Ron ..." Harry began.

"But ..." the redhead said, changing direction. "If it wasn't for Snape, many of us wouldn't be here right now."

"Don't you read the newspapers?" Potter put forth.

"Wasn't it you who told me not to believe everything I read?" Finnigan snorted.

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, a piercing ting interrupted.

"Settle down everyone! Settle down!" McGonagall loudly voiced, tapping on the side of her glass.

Almost instantly, the Great Hall fell silent. Harry turned away from his housemates and focused on the Headmistress. He'd deal with them later.

"Welcome back, everyone! Welcome back!" McGonagall graciously greeted. "Before we begin the feast, I have a few announcements to make. First, I would like to introduce our newest edition to Hogwarts, Professor Adrianna Torres." she said, motioning for her to stand. "She will be your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher!"

When the attractive Spanish witch stood up, nearly all the males in the room burst into thunderous applause. Even Harry, who was perfectly content with his gal was forced to stifle a hoot. Ron also gave a modest round of applause, but it wasn't difficult to see he was smitten. Fortunately, Hermione wasn't looking.

_She's gorgeous …_ he thought dreamily, unable to take his eyes off the buxom beauty.

Minerva glowered at the student body. Although she appreciated their enthusiasm, the wizards were going overboard.

"Ahem … yes, very good ... thank you," she said, batting down their applause.

After a moment, the room calmed down. McGonagall then smiled brightly over her next introduction.

"Now, may I ask you to please welcome, Professor Nicholas Sweetie! He is Gryffindor's new Head of House and will be teaching Transfiguration."

The Great Hall welcomed the age worn Professor with a generous applause. The elder wizard stood up and accepted their greeting with a polite bow.

"He's bloody ancient," Seamus whispered, drawing a snicker from his housemates.

Sweetie was very old, as evident by his slow response and long white hair, but he possessed a kind face and a warm smile, which radiated throughout the room. In time, he would become a favorite among the students.

"Ancient or not, he's our Head of House. Show some respect!" Hermione shot back.

Finnigan rolled his eyes.

"Finally, I am most pleased to welcome back, Professor Severus Snape. He has graciously agreed to resume his post as Potions Master and Slytherin's Head of House," said the Headmistress, clapping in tribute.

Most of the students clapped respectively, but their jeers were a far cry from the enormity that Torres and Sweetie received.

When the news broke of Snape's miraculous return, most of the Wizarding World was still coming to grips with his role as a hero. Snape dedicated much of his adult life to a cause he didn't initially support, but somehow helped to win. What's more is that he survived. The majority of students lingered between admiration and suspicion, but some proudly cheered his return.

The Headmistress observed the Slytherin section with a scowl. They were by far, the quietest of all the recipients. After Voldemort's downfall, many of their family members were sent to Azkaban. Yes, some of them were relieved to be rid of the Dark Lord, but most of them resented Snape for betraying them.

_Bloody traitor …_ Draco quietly seethed, refusing to look up.

Draco, like so many others, returned to Hogwarts to complete his education. After his father was sent to Azkaban, his mother insisted that he go back. It was the safest place for him with all that was still going on. The wizard wasn't thrilled about returning, but he did it to make her happy.

Severus offered the room a curt nod, but did not stand. Outwardly, he made a good show of appearing unaffected by his charges lack of enthusiasm, but inwardly, he felt a pang of loss over his iconic status. His Slytherins had always supported in him, despite their classmates hatred. Now it seemed they did not respect him. In no way did Severus regret his role in the war to bring down Lily's killer, nor did he mourn Voldemort's death, but he was deeply disappointed by his charges short sightedness. He did what was necessary, not only to right a wrong he had committed, but to ensure their futures; a future that didn't involve slaughter and fear.

Towards the rear of the hall, a small, but voracious supporter screamed Snape's name.

"Yay, Professor Snape!" Olivia shouted.

Harry, Hermione and a few others, looked back.

"Looks like the Professor has an admirer," Harry grinned.

Snape resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It was bad enough that his own House didn't welcome him back, but to be hailed by a House Elf was embarrassing.

The Headmistress eyed the elf amusingly. "Thank you everyone, thank you very much," she said, pausing for the close.

"Please note that the second corridor is off limits until repairs are complete. All classes located on that floor have been temporarily moved to the west wing of the third corridor. You may refer to your schedule for more information. Ahem, well … I believe that covers everything. Please enjoy the feast!" said McGonagall, tapping her wand lightly.

The tables suddenly blossomed with turkey, pudding, veggies, chicken, cakes, and pies. The younger kids gasped over the assortment. Harry and Ron mused over their excited expressions as they recalled the first time Professor Dumbledore performed that trick.

"Newbies," Ron joked.

* * *

The celebration was going strong, but Hermione was feeling a bit tired. Harry, Ron and Ginny were engrossed in Quidditch talk and Neville had joined Luna at the Ravenclaw table. They weren't officially dating, but they had developed a strong friendship over the past year and rarely left each other's side. Hermione compared it to a similar bond she once shared with Harry and Ron, but that connection was waning. Ginny had taken her place in Harry's heart and Ron was becoming more infatuated with the idea 'romantic love' as he called it. Hermione managed to keep the hormonal wizard at bay, but the witch knew she wouldn't be able to hold him off forever. She loved Ron but he wasn't ready for that kind of relationship. He was still too immature.

Hermione yawned.

"I should turn in early," she said, feeling the weight of her lids.

Ron and Harry barely glanced up.

"Sure, okay. Would you like me to walk you back to Gryffindor?" Ron asked, hoping the witch said no.

"No, that's okay. I'm going straight to bed."

"Goodnight, Mione," the trio said, returning to their conversation.

Exhausted, Hermione grabbed her bag and left the Great Hall. As luck would have it, Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode were also leaving.

"Granger," said Pansy, following the Gryffindor to the stairwell.

Hermione slowly turned around.

"Yes?"

"I was just wondering … did you make Head Girl this year?"

_Leave it to her to bring that up _…

"Was my name called?" She said coolly.

"Now Granger, I'm just being sociable."

Hermione snorted.

"I was just curious to know why you didn't make Head Girl. I would've thought you'd be a shoe in."

Hermione clenched her bag. She knew Pansy was just trying to get under skin, but that did nothing to prevent it from happening.

"Are you oblivious to the obvious? Gryffindor has more than one worthy student," she quipped.

Pansy studied her rival for a moment. She may have been the brightest witch of their age, but she was still a lowly mudblood.

"Yes, but that would make someone more deserving than you, wouldn't it?"

Smiling, Hermione turned from the witch and proceeded upstairs.

"I understand. I do," Pansy rushed to say. "But you needn't feel too badly! Ginny Weasley just got lucky, that's all. I mean ... she doesn't have your mudblood advantage, but I'm sure she'll manage."

Stunned, Hermione turned around. _Mudblood advantage?_

"What did you say?" she gasped.

Parkinson folded her arms and smiled.

"You heard me, although it must've been hard losing to a pureblood like that."

Out of nowhere, Draco appeared and wrapped his arm around Pansy's shoulder.

"Now, Pansy … what have I told you about toying with inferiors on the first day of school?"

"After everything that's happened… after everything you've seen … after everything you've done," Hermione hissed. "You still refuse to grow up!"

The couple laughed.

"What's going on here?" a familiar voice rang.

Draco and Pansy turned around to find Professor Snape billowing up the corridor. He stopped just a few feet shy of his Slytherin charges and eyed them carefully.

"Well?" he asked, offering Hermione a brief glance.

"Nothing, sir. We were just on our way to Slytherin House." Parkinson answered, elbowing Millicent for support.

"Is that so? Allow me to refresh your memory, Miss Parkinson. The dungeons are _that_ way," he gestured.

Draco rolled his eyes and tugged Pansy's sleeve.

"C'mon, let's go," he murmured. "I can't bare the stench of mudbloods and traitors on a full stomach!"

Snape caught the remark, but chose to ignore it.

_Ungrateful, pup …_

Severus planned to deal with Draco in his own time, on his own terms, but he'd do it privately. Hermione was too far away to catch what he said; otherwise, she would have bolted out of her stance. The Slytherin couple shot Granger a nasty grin before turning down the corridor and quickly departed without biding their Head of House a goodnight.

Snape stared after them, a little stunned by his godson's audacity.

"Thank you …" Hermione began, breaking his train of thought.

Snape wrinkled his nose and looked over.

"For?" he scowled.

"For intervening," she answered.

Severus eyed the witch uncomfortably before stiffly turning away. In truth, he had intervened, though he wasn't sure why. It was unlike him to reprimand his students in front of Gryffindors, especially annoying little chits like Granger, but the _mudblood_ insult was a touchy thing for him. Had they called her ugly, pretentious, or some other name, he might've ignored it, but not mudblood. He wouldn't allow anyone, not even his own students, to use 'that' word in his presence or within earshot range.

"Professor!" Hermione said hurriedly.

Snape stopped and looked back.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"I'm sorry about what happened in the Great Hall ..."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

"The way the Slytherins treated you! They should have applauded," she frowned.

Snape bristled. He didn't need her sympathy!

"Do not pity me, Miss Granger for I do NOT pity you."

"I didn't … I wasn't …"

"Spare me your dribble and go to your dormitory," he coldly interrupted, cutting the witch off mid-apology.

Hermione's mouth dropped open.

"Sir, I was just …"

The Potions Master turned and resumed his course, leaving the bemused Gryffindor alone on the staircase.


	10. Paying Attention

Ron walked Hermione to NEWT level potions before heading to Advance Transfiguration. Hermione insisted she was fine, but the wizard was determined to protect her after what happened. He figured his presence would discourage anyone from saying anything. Of course, he was overlooking the obvious. This was the same witch who fought for the Order.

Ron paused at the door and peeked inside.

"Will you be okay?" he asked, not seeing Pansy or Draco anywhere.

"Yes, Ron ... thank you," said Hermione, blushing as she glanced back to see if anyone was watching.

The wizard tried to steal a kiss, but she was too quick.

"Don't," she whispered.

She hated it when he tried to steal a smooch in public.

"C'mon, Hermione … just a quickie," he said, lips puckered.

Snape, who was standing at the head of the class, looked over and spotted the Gryffindors lingering inside the doorway. He frowned when Weasley tried to sneak a bit of fluff. Judging by Granger's reaction, it was an unwelcomed advance.

"Mr. _Weasley_," said the Professor, taking care to enunciate his name carefully.

The students turned around.

"Sir?" he answered, paling a bit.

"I don't recall seeing your name on my morning roster. Has something changed?"

"Um, no sir. I was just seeing Hermione to class," Ron explained.

"Mm, I see ... perhaps, you would like to escort her to her seat?"

The class snickered.

"Um, no sir ... that won't be necessary. I was just leaving ..."

Snape crossed his arms and waited for the couple to part ways. He frowned on the tradition of _walking_ one's girlfriend to class, though he understood it to be one of those ridiculous courtship rituals.

"Today," he testily added.

"I'll see you at lunch," Ron whispered.

The Potions Master read the wizard's lips and sneered.

"And will you be waiting by the door at the end of class?" he mockingly asked. "Tut, tut ... Miss Granger, you have quite a hold on Weasley!"

A small guffaw broke out among the Slytherin and Ravenclaws, with a few Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors sprinkled in. Lavender Brown was among those laughing the hardest. Snape was always good for a laugh when it was at someone else's expense and the students, no matter which House they were in, loved a good badgering.

Ron chuckled along with them, but it was easy to see he was embarrassed. He knew the greasy bat was just trying to goad him into mouthing off so he could deduct points. War hero or not, he was still a git.

The laughter died shortly after Weasley left, but the ridicule wasn't over. Granger felt the weight of her classmate's eyes on her as she made her way to Neville's table. He offered the witch a sympathetic glance, but said nothing. Snape was looking directly at him. He was just thankful to be there and to have Hermione as a tablemate! Potions had never been his strong suite, but if he wanted to follow in his mum and dad's footsteps, he had to have it.

Hermione plopped down and rummaged through her bag for some parchment, a quill, and some ink. To her surprise, the bottle was empty.

_How did that happen?_ She wondered, shaking the container confusingly.

Hermione threw the bottle back into her bag and searched for a pencil. After thirty seconds or so, she found one and looked up. She was surprised to find that Snape was still leering at her!

"Finished?" he asked.

The witch colored.

"Yes, sir" she answered, slowly setting her bag aside.

The Professor made a show of turning towards the class.

"Take out your books and turn to page five …"

* * *

Humming to herself, Olivia happily searched Snape's private rooms for soiled laundry. She wandered through his study and bedroom, gathering discarded socks, towels, shorts and whatever else she could find. Given the sparse number of articles, Olivia assumed the wizard used cleansing spells on himself regularly.

The upbeat elf was completely oblivious to the tatty state of his personal effects. Elves didn't give much thought to material possessions, but then, why should they? Only freed elves were allowed to own anything and only unhappy elves wanted to be free. She could catch Snape sleeping on a pinewood crate and it wouldn't matter one iota.

Olivia sang an old squib ditty while she worked.

"He rocks in the tree-top all a day long … hoppin' and a-boppin' and a-singin' that song … all the little birds … mm, mm … love to hear the robin goin' tweet, tweet, tweet!"

Singing, the elf hopped onto the mattress and began to jump.

"Rockin' robin … da, da, da … Rockin' robin … la, la, la ... oh rockin' robin, you really gonna rock tonight … mm, mm …"

_Potions Master's bed is too small … _she thought, pausing briefly.

Olivia soon noticed something peculiar on the pillow and leaned over for a closer look.

"What is this, Olivia wonders …" picking up the cushion and holding it to the light.

Olivia ran her elongated finger over the lines of the fabric. Elves could see things that most magical beings couldn't and something was definitely there. She studied it carefully, trying to decide on the best solution for stain removal. A moment passed before she realized what it was. Suddenly, Olivia was overcome by sadness.

"Tears …" she whispered, running her finger over the stained material disbelievingly.

Olivia eased off the bed and gathered up her basket.

"Poor, Professor … Olivia takes the tears away," she said.

* * *

Hermione tried to concentrate on Snape's lecture, but she was distracted by thoughts of Ron, school, the war, and her future now that it was all over. It wasn't that the Professor was uninteresting. She was just comfortable with the subject matter. She had familiarized herself with the chapters he was discussing weeks ago.

"Be advised," Snape said warningly. "Each person will be responsible for their own work! There will be no group assignments in this class. You're not children anymore. You must learn to work independently. And just so you know, the next lab assignment will depend heavily on our discussion today. I hope everyone was paying attention!"

The last comment wasn't directed at anyone in particular, but a few of Granger's Slytherin neighbors began to snicker, drawing Snape's attention to the Gryffindor's table.

"Hermione, snap out of it!" Neville murmured, noticing the distant look on her face.

Startled, the witch looked around, then down at her book.

"Where are we?" she whispered.

"Page 19," Neville said quickly.

Hermione saw that she was on page ten and flipped to the right page. Snape frowned when he spotted her trying to catch up.

"Miss Granger …" he said coolly. "Please provide everyone with the names of three deadly plants and their non-lethal cousins …"

Hermione sat up.

"Mercury, copper arsenite …"

"_Provided _in this lecture," the Professor hissed.

"Oh … certainly," she said, discreetly smoothing down the correct page.

Hermione casually looked down and scanned the text, hoping to spy a hint or two. See this, Snape glided over and moved behind his pupil. She was so absorbed in her reading that she didn't even notice.

"Why are you reading?" he asked, causing the witch to flinch.

"I wasn't ... I was just looking down – thinking …" she lied, blushing profusely.

Neville shook his head._ There goes five points, _he thought miserably.

Snape arched his brow and scoffed. It wasn't like the 'brainy' witch to daydream in class. And was that a nervous tick he saw?

The students began to whisper. Hermione, like Harry, was popular, but not universally liked. Some were jealous of her fame and others her intellectual prowess so the chance to see her squirm was a treat.

"Quiet …" Snape softly warned, looking over the classroom daringly.

Once the murmurs faded, the Professor turned back and studied the Gryffindor a moment longer.

"Do you know what I think, Miss Granger? I think you don't know. A first, I dare say ..." he purred. "Five points from Gryffindor! For _not_ paying attention ..."

Hermione shot the wizard a stern 'whatever' look.

Smirking, the wizard sauntered pass and billowed away, adding the condition, "You will also report to me for detention tonight!" in a delighted tone.

"Detention for a first offense? That's completely unfair!"

The entire class choked back an 'ooh', forcing the Potions Master to stop dead in his tracks. Clenching his jaw, he turned around and stalked back up to the witch. He was mere inches from her nose when he spoke.

"For attempting to _deceive_ me, Miss Granger," he said in a low, irritated voice.

Hermione wisely refrained from reacting, even when the wizard's breath caught her hair. Snape was intimidating on a good day, but it wasn't fear that kept her silent. It was embarrassment. Why did she lie?

"Ahem ... what time, sir?"

Crossing his arms, the Professor considered his answer. Her little challenge had put him in an unforgiving mood so he wanted to make it as inconvenient as possible. After-dinner detentions were always the most difficult because it gave the students something to dread on a heavy stomach.

"Eight o'clock."

Right then, the clock chimed, signaling that class was over. Everyone gathered their books hurriedly. Granger receiving detention wasn't nearly as interesting as a free period.

"Due on Thursday, two roles of parchment detailing today's discussion. Dismissed," said Snape, returning to his desk.

The students made quick work of leaving, crowding the door in groups of 3, 4, and 5. Pairs and singles quickly followed. In less than a minute, the classroom was nearly empty.

"Ahem … excuse me, Professor?" a gentle voice said a few feet away.

Snape was busy organizing his notes when he heard the voice and looked up. He was a little surprised to find Lavender Brown still there.

"Yes, Miss Brown?"

"Um, thank you," she said sweetly.

Had there been crickets in the room, at least 'live' ones, they would've have chirped.

Confused, the wizard sat back in his chair.

"I beg your pardon?"

"For penalizing Granger, sir ... the other teachers act like she's so great, but it's nice to know there is at least one person who isn't afraid to put her in her place!"

Snape eyed the witch suspiciously. She was egging him on, kindling the flame so-to-speak – not that the fire needed fanning. It was sufficiently stoked, but he knew manipulation when he saw it. He had a feeling her sudden appreciation of him had less to do with 'right' and more to do with a certain young redhead. He was well aware of Lavender's infatuation with Ronald Weasley, Granger's beau, and that they had parted ways two years ago. It surprised him to see that she was still mooning over him.

"How very … Slytherin of you," he cleverly mocked.

Lavender's face became sour.

"Miss Granger is your housemate and unless I'm mistaken, Ronald Weasley's girlfriend, is she not?"

The witch bristled uncomfortably.

"Well, um ... I don't know if they're actually dating ..." she paused. "... ahem, what I mean is ... I don't know if it's serious or anything, but yes, sir. I think so."

Snape tapped his finger and smirked. Women, particularly young witches, were so transparent.

"And Mister Weasley is your ex ..."

Lavender folded her arms and looked away. The coral in her cheeks said it all.

"Mm, yes ... I thought so. Again, how refreshingly _un-Gryffindor_," he purred.

"I'm sorry to have disturbed you, Professor." she fidgeted, disguising her embarrassment with a cough. "I'll just leave you alone now ..."

Severus looked away, allowing the crafty little witch a speedy and unscathed retreat. He wasn't in the habit of chastising girls whose only crime was having foolishly and sadly fallen in-love! She was Mister Weasley's problem, not his.

* * *

**A/C:** I needed Neville back in Potions so I took some creative liberties :) I will explain his presence in a later chapter.


	11. Detention with Snape

"He gave you detention for that?!" Ron exclaimed, spewing crumbs of bread as he chewed. "The man's a bloody rotter!"

Hermione stabbed her salad angrily. "It's only the first week of school," she added.

Neville ate quietly, careful not to look up. It didn't go unnoticed.

"Something wrong, Neville?" Hermione asked.

The wizard glanced between his friends and shrugged. "Um, no … it's just … Professor Snape had a small point."

"What? How can you say that? He was being completely unfair!"

"You weren't paying attention, Hermione. And to make matters worse, you tried to con him when he called you on it." Neville said truthfully.

"Whose side are you on?" Ron defended. "And what do you mean by con? Any of us would have done the same thing in that situation."

"And that makes it right?" Neville combated. "Hermione … maybe you should just take your lumps on this one. Yeah, Snape's an arse but that's just Snape."

"I would've thought that 'almost dying' would have helped his attitude," she sneered.

Right then, the witch was far removed from the Hermione who practically begged Harry to tell her about Snape's mystery woman weeks earlier.

"Try not to take it personally. Any one of us would be saddled with detention if we'd been caught daydreaming, especially during a lecture that could possibly save us from a horrible accident."

"Daydreaming?" Ron blurted. "You were caught daydreaming?"

Hermione colored.

"I thought you said he gave you detention for not knowing the answer to his question? Now that I think about it ... that does sound a bit odd." he pointed out, mulling over the thought.

"I wasn't … I was just … I never daydream! Neville, tell him I wasn't daydreaming," she said, glancing towards her friend expectantly.

The wizard forced himself to concentrate on his lunch. From his perspective, Hermione was definitely daydreaming.

"Was it about me?" the redhead continued.

He'd already deduced that she must have been daydreaming about him.

"For the last time, I wasn't - -"

"Hi, guys!" Harry cheerfully interrupted, seating himself next to Neville.

Ginny soon followed.

"Hi, Harry. Hi, Ginny." the trio said in unison.

"What's the topic?"

"Nothing," Hermione quickly answered.

Harry looked between his friends. Ron and Neville looked amused, especially Ron.

"Hermione has detention with Snape tonight," the redhead informed.

"Detention? How did you manage that?"

Ginny batted her eyes disbelievingly.

"Yeah, it's only the second day of class."

"She was daydreaming!" Ron chortled.

"I was not!"

"About?" Harry asked, ignoring her response.

"Well, that's what we were trying to drag out of her when you walked up."

"Were any points docked?" Ginny asked.

She was Head Girl after all.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Only five," she said, trying to make the offense sound less offensive.

"Well, that's got to be a bloody record!" Seamus laughed, seating himself a ways down. "It's only the second day of class."

Ron pretended to sound indignant. "Hush up, Finnigan! Hermione feels badly enough," smiling through his cover.

As long as she was thinking of him while she was getting docked, the witch could cost Gryffindor a 100 points and it wouldn't matter.

"Thank you, Ronald." said Hermione.

The wizard beamed. Ginny didn't comment but judging by her expression, five points was still too many to lose.

"It'll be okay. It's only detention." Harry put forth, secretly relishing over the fact that his perfect friend was busted before anyone else.

Hermione shot the wizard a look that clearly said, 'that's easy for you to say'.

It's amazing the difference one year can make. There was a time Harry would have gladly hopped on board the Hermione gripe train, calling Snape every name in the book but nowadays he viewed the wizard with much kinder eyes. It didn't matter that he was sourpuss. He would always be the man who protected him at great peril to himself.

"Well, I don't want to be late for my next class." Hermione offered. "So, I'll see you guys around. I'll see you in Herbology, Ginny."

"Are you coming to practice later?" Ron asked.

"Um, no … I need to go over Nev … some notes," Hermione corrected.

Outwardly, Ron seemed to deflate some but only Ginny and Harry noticed. The wizard waited until his 'unofficial girlfriend' was gone before he spoke.

"Why doesn't she want to watch me play?"

"Maybe she finds Quidditch boring," Harry suggested.

He knew the witch wasn't in to sports, unlike his Ginny.

"Oh and I suppose studying is more interesting?"

Harry shrugged.

"For Hermione … um, yeah. You should know that by now."

Ron shook his head as he crammed another bite of his ham and cheese sandwich into his mouth. There were some things about Hermione Granger, he would never understand.

* * *

Olivia tended to Snape's laundry first, scrubbing each article twice. She made sure to add special extracts to the solution to make the cotton softer and more stain resistant.

"The Professor is sure to like this," she beamed as the other servants looked on.

Elves possessed a natural desire to please their lords and masters. They were servants, born into servitude so it wasn't unusual to see a worker striving to do a good job. However, the other elves found it a bit strange that Olivia took so much joy in her task. True, they liked to work but none of them enjoyed it so openly. According to their code of etiquette, it was the equivalent to showing off.

The Head Elf, Oz, observed his charge with distaste.

"Olivia, you're an elf, not a canary. Stop singin'!" he told her.

"Olivia isn't doing anything wrong," she staunchly replied.

A swarm of whispers soon followed. No one spoke to Oz like that. One strong word from him and they'd be out of job.

"Oz says you are!"

"But … Olivia is just doing what she was told, Mr. Oz."

"Then do it quietly or I'll put you on LATRINE duty after you done!" he warned.

Scowling, Olivia returned to her work. "Fine," she grumbled back.

About that time, Olivia overheard some of the other elves snickering. Instantly, her frown deepened. She hated being laughed at.

"You're just jealous," she murmured.

"Jealous? Why?!" said one of the elves.

"You're just mad that Professor Snape picked Olivia to help and not you!"

"Enough! You all get back to work," Oz screeched. "And stop boastin', Olivia!"

"Olivia not boastin'! Olivia tells the truth!"

Oz folded his arms and glared at the young elf.

"So you're special, is that it? You got stuck with the meanest group of kids and Head of House in all of Hogwarts. His heart is as black as his hair! That doesn't make you special. That just makes you slow!"

The whole room broke out into a fit of laughter. Olivia was tempted to levitate the bucket wash water and dump it on Oz's head, but she didn't want to get into trouble with the Headmistress. She was still very new and McGonagall would be furious. Instead, she sucked in her chest and turned away from the laughter.

"Olivia is special," she whispered.

* * *

Hermione made it through the rest of the day without another word about her being the first Gryffindor to serve with Snape that year. Maybe Harry was right. It was just detention, no big deal – right?

It was nearly 8 o'clock when Hermione reached the Potions classroom. She debated on whether or not she should walk inside early or wait until the clock struck precisely eight. After taking a deep breath, she knocked. Early was better than on time.

No response.

As she waited for an answer, the witch considered the ramifications of her reprimand. She found it vexing to have such a meaningless blemish on her record. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more distressing the idea became. No doubt, her future in the Wizarding World would depend on her having an outstanding transcript. The war was over but the bigotry would live on for many years to come. She had to better than the competition if she wanted to make a life for herself.

_What could be taking him so long?_ She thought.

*Knock, Knock*

Hermione routinely obsessed over things; things that most students her age wouldn't care about, but she couldn't help it. The witch was an exceptional student. Yes, she committed a few misdeeds over the course of her school career but in her mind, those offenses were justified. She wasn't a cretin.

_Where is he? _

*Knock, Knock*

"Come in!" a gruff voice replied.

Hermione slowly opened the door and peeked inside. Snape was sitting at his desk sipping a cup of hot tea.

"Must you bang on the door like a mindless idiot?"

"Apologies, sir … I wasn't sure if you could hear me."

"Of course, I heard you. I'm sure half of Slytherin House heard you," he said coldly.

Hermione stuck out her chin and made her way to the front of the classroom. "Reporting for _detention_," she announced pointlessly.

The wizard rolled his head and scoffed.

"Why else would you be here?" he replied. "Now, sit down."

Hermione followed his instruction.

"Why didn't you answer when I knocked?"

Snape arched his brow. Was she questioning him? The last time he checked, he didn't answer to students.

"I was busy," he said evenly.

The wizard picked up a thick stack of papers and walked around his desk. He startled the witch when he suddenly dropped the heavy load onto the table.

"These are medical reports; a collection of records going back thirty years. All the persons in these files were injured as a result of a potions accident. Without the use of magic, I want you to copy every record."

"Professor …" Hermione launched, "this will take much longer than an hour."

"Then you will report back to me each night until the assignment is complete. Oh, and to ensure that it is done properly, I will test you on any given three. If by the end of the task you are unable to answer my questions, you will have to start over."

Hermione's eyes became daggers.

"Do you have any sensible questions?" he purred.

_I guess it's true what they say. Only the good die young,_ she thought.

"No, Professor."

"Good. You may begin," Snape said with a smirk.

Hermione took out her pencil and began copying. Severus returned to his lofty position at the head of the classroom and observed. He made sure to appear completely relaxed as he sipped his cup of tea and read over some literature. Normally, he spent his evenings marking papers but seeing how it was only the second day of class, he didn't have much to do. It would also add to the witch's frustration to see him enjoying himself.

_This should teach you to pay attention in my class,_ he mused.

Halfway through the session, Hermione's hand began to cramp. So far, she had copied several records ranging from minor incidents to students becoming permanently scarred as a result of a potion gone awry. One account was of blind girl who lost her sight after her partner's carelessness. Hermione couldn't help but notice that the names had been blacked out. She assumed that was done to ensure patient confidentiality.

Snape studied the witch intently. He focused on her reactions more than anything else. Every so often, she would sigh or balk in horror; making it obvious that she felt something for the victims. Despite his best attempts not too, he found her compassion mildly endearing; useless, impractical and highly typical of a bleeding heart Gryffindor, but slightly noble. At least she was capable of seeing beyond her punishment. Of course, her empathy mattered not. He planned to keep her there for the duration of the assignment. No exceptions. She would learn that it pays to pay attention in his class.

_Today, I removed (patient's name) bandages. I tried not to react but my dismay must have been apparent somehow. (Patient's name) read my eyes and demanded a mirror straight away. I tried to convince her that she should wait, but she insisted. Professor Dumbledore ordered me to do as (patient's name) requested, though it was obvious by his tone that he did not want to give me that order. When_ (patient's name) _saw her reflection for the first time, the light of hope and youth seemed to vanish from her eyes. The explosion had caused irrevocable damage, melting the left side of her beautiful face. I doubt that even the Healer's at St. Mungos will be able to help her. Albus tried to comfort her, but it was no use. (Patient's name) dropped the mirror onto the floor, shattering it into a million pieces. She was broken beyond tears._

Hermione gasped.

_That poor girl …_ she thought.

"Is something wrong, Miss Granger?" Snape asked knowingly.

The witch snapped too.

"Um … no, sir"

Hermione didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his reports were having an effect on her. She was supposed to be angry with the wizard. Once again, it didn't take a Legilimens to see that the witch wasn't telling the truth.

_If Granger insists on lying, she should spend more time developing her skills,_ he thought.

Snape looked at the clock. It was nearing curfew and the witch was only partially done. He knew she wouldn't be able to finish within the time allotted, but silently commended her effort. She had worked diligently the entire time.

"You may stop," he flatly announced.

Hermione didn't look up.

"Sir, if I may be allowed to stay …" she said, continuing to write.

She didn't want to come back.

"I said stop!" Snape hissed.

Granger quit writing and threw her pencil down. Severus was tempted to scold the witch for her insolence, but decided he was too tired to waste anymore of his valuable time. Instead, he took out a piece of parchment and wrote out a hall pass.

"Be here tomorrow – same time. This will get you back to Gryffindor Tower," he informed, sharply signing off and passing the note to the witch. "Don't make any detours."

Hermione snatched the paper from Snape's hand. She didn't mean too. She was just so frustrated. Hermione's heart dropped when his eyes flashed up. She shouldn't have done that.

"Thank you, Professor!" she said, spinning away.

Seconds later, she was gone. Snape grabbed his empty cup and retired for the night. As a rule, he didn't tolerate cheek, but he let the witch go for one simple reason. She would be returning to him soon enough.

Severus retreated to his chambers. After warding the door, he turned around and stopped. His dissatisfaction quickly dissolved when he saw how clean and orderly everything looked. Being a man of little means, he wasn't much on design, but his room looked halfway respectable. The dust was gone, the furniture had been polished, and his bed … well, his bed was still his bed, but it was spotless and perfectly made.

Appearing a bit shocked, Severus entered the lavatory. Much like his chambers, it looked immaculate. The towels were perfectly matched and arranged; the curtain replaced, and the grimy buildup scrubbed away. He also noticed that several new toiletries on the basin.

"Is the Professor pleased?" a squeaky voice asked from behind.

The wizard slowly turned back. Olivia was staring up at him expectantly.

"I find it … acceptable," he answered.

Severus wasn't thrilled about having Olivia in his quarters. He had taken many workers to task for invading his domain, but she was fairly new. Maybe she didn't know. Moreover, he liked what he saw.

"You did all this?"

"Of course!" she proudly put forth.

"Hm … I would be inclined to believe you if it wasn't for the fact that you deceived me, Olivia …" Severus said wickedly.

Instantly, her big blue eyes rounded. Snape had no idea the terrible insult he just paid her.

"Olivia not lie! Olivia never lies! Oz thinks Olivia lies, but Oz is wrong! Olivia always tells the truth, except when the truth hurts. Like Ivy … she can't cook, but Olivia eats her slop anyway. Olivia never lies to the Professor! Never!"

For a moment, the wizard looked caught off guard. He didn't mean to upset the elf. He simply miscalculated. Seeing her reaction moved him to explain. Snape swept aside his robe and knelt down, which made her even more uncomfortable.

"Calm down. You didn't _actual _deceive me."

"Then why does Professor Snape say Olivia lies!" she blubbered, wiping her big nose onto her sleeve.

Severus gritted his teeth and balled his fists. He hated situations like this. Elf or not, tearful females had never been his strong suit. Looking exasperated, he thought for a moment.

"It was a joke," he answered, bristling uncomfortably.

"A joke …" Olivia sniffed.

There was a long pause. Slowly, the elf's eyes dried up.

"Olivia doesn't understand."

"When I said that you _deceived _me, I was referring to your comment about laundry being your specialty. Apparently, you can do more than laundry." He said, motioning around the room.

It took a few seconds for his explanation to sink in, but when it did, the elf relaxed. She sniffed a couple of times then smiled. The Potions Master had paid her a compliment – a real compliment! Suddenly, she felt proud.

After a few seconds more, the joy fell from her face again.

"What is it?" the wizard asked.

"That is a horrible joke to play on poor Olivia!" she spat.

"What?"

"Horrible! Horrible! Horrible!"

Severus rolled his eyes and stood up.

"I'm not good with jokes," he admitted.

"No, the Professor is not! Olivia sure hopes he never quits his day job," she huffed, gathering her basket.

Snape observed the elf in disbelief. He did everything, but outright apologize and all he got for his trouble was more insolence?

"Olivia goes now! Olivia has latrine duty," the elf said before popping out.

Severus dropped his head and cuffed the bridge of his nose. Sighing heavily, he snatched his cane and headed out. Walking always helped him to unwind. Maybe he'd get lucky and stumble upon some small, vicious animal. Beating it senseless might help too.

* * *

**A/C:** And we're off! Warning – PARTS of this story will confuse you, but there is a certain logic behind the madness – PLEASE remember that. I can't promise you a lovey-dovey, speedy affair but I will try to stay true to the characters (as much as the story allows me) and don't worry, I do not intend to be the first fanfic writer to write an HP inner species romance. Ginny and Hermione have traded roles to some degree. Since making Head Girl, Ginny has become more of a rule buddy, similar to her brother Percy, but not 'as' bad. On the other hand, Hermione wasn't picked so she's feeling a bit jealous and maybe rebellious. FYI: Ginny is in her 7th year. Hermione wasn't chosen b/c technically she's in her 8th term (even though we're calling it her 7th). Thanks so much for the reviews!


	12. Twilight Thoughts

Hermione massaged her sore wrist as she made her way upstairs. A little more than two hours had passed, but it felt as if she'd been stuck in the dungeon for days. The Slytherin Prefects were leaned against the dungeon stairwell, talking amongst themselves, when the Gryffindor passed. They acknowledged her with a nod, but no one bothered asking her for a pass because they already knew that she was serving detention with Snape. Why else would she be down there?

Drifting along, Hermione thought back to something Neville said that day. Did she really try to con the Professor? The term 'con' seemed a bit over-the-top. She did what any normal person would do in that situation. She faked it until she could make it. Only it didn't work. The wizard had been a spy for years. Of course, she only made matters worse by accusing him of being unfair in front of the class and her friends. It was unlike her to be so juvenile, but she'd been on the defensive after his cheap shot with Ron. She recalled a similar embarrassing display years ago over an article concerning, Victor Krum. Maybe she was reacting to that more than anything else. Despite having almost died, the Professor could be a real jerk sometimes.

Hermione exited the dungeons and headed for the main staircase, but quickly stopped when she turned the corner and saw Ginny talking with the new DADA instructor. Instinctively, she ducked behind the wall.

_Why am I hiding?_ _I have a pass, _she thought.

Hermione peeked around the corner. She smiled when she noticed Torres fighting the urge to yawn. She didn't seem at all that eager to hear Ginny's theories on how to improve school security, but to her credit, made a good show of nodding along. Of course, the newly appointed Head Girl was completely oblivious to the Professor's disinterest.

_Ginny's becoming more and more like her brother, Percy, every day._

Hermione backed away from the scene and quietly slipped into the courtyard. She simply wasn't in the mood to see or talk to Ginny. She didn't know why. She didn't have any reason to be upset with her, something just felt off. She couldn't put her finger on what it was exactly, but since returning to Hogwarts, things just felt different between them.

_I'll just wait it out,_ Hermione thought.

Prefects and teachers seldom ventured outside. There was little to see or patrol out there. Rumor had it that the school's facilities and grounds were booby-trapped with detection charms that would alert the Headmistress to any wrongdoing. Even if the rule breakers managed to avoid the charms, few were bold or brave enough to risk expulsion.

Hermione wrapped herself tightly.

_I wish I had a jacket, _she thought.

The weather in Scotland was typically good in September with spring-like days and fall-like evenings. During the summer it didn't become dark until 10 or so, but by the end of August the days shortened considerably. It wasn't until mid-October that early nightfall settled over the land, ushering the official arrival of autumn.

"I wish they'd hurry up," she mumbled, looking back to find the witches still chatting.

Hermione didn't want to admit it, but she secretly envied Ginny. She'd spent the better part of her school career preparing herself for the role of Head Girl until the war cut her plans short. She had the highest marks in her year, excluding Slughorn's class where Harry temporarily took the lead. Undoubtedly, Snape made it known to all that Harry had help … or did he? Had he revealed that he was the Half-Blood Prince to anyone other than, Harry?

Hermione pondered the thought briefly.

No matter – she was a superb role model. She never broke the rules! Well, except when the greater good was at stake, but other than that she was a model student and a favorite among the teachers. Professors Snape and Trelawney didn't count, of course.

_I'm being silly. I'm here to finish my education! __I shouldn't care about anything else. Nothing else matters, _she told herself.

Sighing tiredly, Hermione sank to the ground. The stone was cold and uncomfortable, but at least she wouldn't be seen. Judging by the looks of things, she was in for a long wait.

* * *

Snape burst out of the dungeons, startling both Ginny and Professor Torres. He didn't look upset, but it was clear something was bugging him. The witches would've never guessed it was an overachieving elf by the name of Olivia. As soon as he spotted their surprised faces, he stopped.

"My apologies," he said, shifting awkwardly.

He hadn't meant to frighten anyone.

"That's quite alright, Professor," said Adrianna.

Snape offered the witches a curt nod before turning towards the courtyard.

"Professor Snape?" Ginny said.

_I should have known it wouldn't be that easy …_

"Yes, Miss Weasley?"

"Didn't Hermione have detention tonight?" she asked.

The remark earned the witch a confused squint.

"Yes." He answered.

"Is she still there?"

_What kind of idiot question is that?_

"Don't be silly. It is against school policy to hold any student after curfew without notifying the Head of House or Head Girl. Clearly, that's not the case here or you would have been notified. I released Miss Granger fifteen minutes ago."

The Gryffindor's brows twitched confusingly. She'd been waiting to talk to Hermione. Surely, she would have noticed her leaving the dungeons.

"Why do you ask?" he said inquisitively.

Ginny had to think quickly. She didn't want to get Hermione into trouble.

"As Head Girl, I am required to know," she replied.

_Another Percy …_ Snape thought boringly.

"Of course. Was there anything else?"

"No, sir that's - -"

Snape turned and walked away before Ginny could finish her sentence. Both witches stared after him, stunned by his abruptness.

"Is he always like that?" the Professor whispered.

"Pretty much," Ginny answered, turning to face the lovely witch. "May I walk you upstairs, Professor? I'd like your input on ways to improve hall monitoring."

Adrianna shot the eager student a half-smile. Thankfully, her quarters weren't far away.

"Of course," said the dark beauty.

* * *

Severus stopped inside the courtyard and slipped on a pair of worn gloves. Although Poppy no longer required him too, he still partook in evening walks, figuring a little leisurely activity might help to keep the bad-mood demons at bay. Not that Severus ever noticed his moods, they seemed to run along one track – miserable, but his colleagues had noticed a small difference. Maybe it was because he was sleeping better now that he no longer had the weight of guilt and war on his mind.

Taking a deep breath, Severus tapped his cane and made his way across the courtyard, unaware that Granger was lurking behind the fountain. Hermione didn't realize that someone had walked outside until she heard something tap the concrete. Remaining low, she rose up and peeked around the bend.

_Oh, that's just my luck!_

Severus stopped when he reached the fountain and looked up. There was no moon that evening, leaving the sky black and empty accept for the tiny pinholes of light shinning down by the thousands. A soft orange glow emanated from the hills beyond Hogwarts, but it was growing fainter by the second. Soon, everything would be covered in darkness accept for torch lit boundaries of the castle.

"Lovely …" Severus said appreciatively, taking another deep breath.

The scent of embers filled his nostrils. It was soothing and characteristic smell, as common as parchment and books. Severus distantly wondered why he never noticed it before his return. Then, there were many things that had gone amiss in recent years. The constant threat of death, exposure, and lingering guilt had clouded his mind and his perception. He just wasn't free to experience the little things. He found it a bit ironic that death had given him that opportunity. Although he had spent very little time thinking about what happened in the Shrieking Shack, the strangeness of it hadn't escaped him. Somehow, he had cheated death, but it was the 'somehow' he questioned. He didn't quite believe in miracles.

"Or second chances," he absently intoned.

Snape focused on the sky, completely oblivious to the Gryffindor's presence. Although his profile was still ruefully hawkish and dark, he appeared peacefully captivated – a first for the witch watching.

Hermione was so engrossed in her observation that she didn't notice that her foot was beginning to slip. It soon gave out, causing her to reach for the leaf covered edge. The gentle rustling noise must have been enough to alert the wizard because he spun around. Wincing, Hermione clutched her banged knee and mouthed the words, _bloody hell_!

Severus proceeded with caution.

"Who's there?" he asked, unsure whether or not he was addressing the wind.

Hermione became very still. She hoped he didn't venture any further. Senior classman or not, she was supposed to be tucked away in her dormitory!

*Silence*

"Professor Snape," a voice called.

Snape turned back to find Ginny Weasley trotting up.

"Professor, may I arrange a time to speak with you tomorrow?"

"About?"

"I would like your input on a new system I've developed for hall monitoring," she told him.

Snape snorted, giving Hermione the opportunity to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Have you discussed the idea with your Head of House?"

"Yes, but I would like to hear your thoughts on the matter."

"Miss Weasley, I don't care what you do. I have my own methods, which I'm sure are far fairer and more accurate than yours."

_Doubt that _– both witches thought.

"Now, if you'll excuse me. I'd like to enjoy the remainder of my evening … ALONE," he emphasized before stalking off.

"Good night, Professor!" said Ginny, pausing until he was out of whispering range. "You moody git."

Unable to hear the latter half of Weasley's remark, the wizard waved the Gryffindor off and shrank into the distance. Once he was gone, Hermione peeked around the bend.

"Thanks, Ginny" she said, mildly embarrassed she'd been caught hiding.

The redhead folded her arms and glared at her friend evenly.

"Just be glad I saw you when I did, otherwise, Snape would have ripped you new one!"

Staggering a bit, Hermione stood up and dusted herself off.

"What are you doing out here?" Ginny asked.

"I needed to think," Hermione lied.

"Couldn't you do that in the common room?"

"No, actually I couldn't. If it helps, I have a pass." The witch offered.

"I'm sure it doesn't give you permission to be in the courtyard after curfew." She retorted, snatching the parchment from her friend's hand.

Ginny read Snape's note then handed it back to Hermione. "Get out of here before I'm forced to deduct points from my own house." she said reluctantly.

"Thanks, Gin –"

"If I catch you out here again, I'll have no choice but to assign you detention. Please don't make me do that, okay?"

Hermione nodded and walked away, leaving her housemate alone outside. Ginny didn't want her new position to interfere with their friendship or any of her friendships, but she meant what she said. She was not going to play favorites.

* * *

Hermione slowly entered Gryffindor House and headed for the girl's rooms. Ron was beating Harry in a game of Wizarding Chess when he noticed her pass.

"How was detention?" he asked.

"Guess."

"Bloody awful, if I know Snape. Say Harry, what's the worst thing he ever made you do?"

Immersed in thought, Harry looked up from the chessboard.

"What?"

"What's detention like with Snape?"

"Horrible," said Harry, seemingly distracted. "It's your move, Ron."

The green-eyed wizard soon noticed Hermione standing by the staircase and smiled, but didn't give much thought to her otherwise. He was focused on the game.

"Your knight is mine," Ron gloated.

Ron's game piece rose from the board and decapitated Harry's figurine with his sword.

"Crap!" said Harry.

"Well, if you'll excuse me …" Hermione frowned, turning up the stairway.

Wizarding chess was such a barbaric game.

* * *

Hermione changed into her nightclothes and situated herself on her bed. She pretended to be engrossed in a copy of Witch Weekly as the other girls prattled on about their usually nonsense. She wasn't the least bit interested in the conversation until she heard Harry's name.

"Yeah, he's so cute. Ginny is so lucky," said Abby.

"Have you asked him yet?"

"Asked him what?"

"Have you asked him how it felt … you know, to kill the Dark Lord?" Tina pried.

Abby shook her head no.

"I've been waiting for someone else to bring it up."

"It's hard to believe You-Know-Who is dead. Do you think he's gone for good this time?"

Before Abby could respond, Hermione interrupted.

"Of course, he's gone," she said. "All the horcruxes were destroyed!"

Both witches glared at Granger as if to say, 'we weren't talking to you'.

Embarrassed, Hermione withdrew from the discussion and lifted her magazine up over her face.

"What do you suppose is wrong with her?" Abby whispered.

"She's just cranky. I heard she had detention with Professor Snape tonight."

"Ewe, Snape. He's such a slim ball! Still, do you think the rumors are true? Do you really think he used dark magic to … you know, come back? I mean, it makes sense. He ran with that lot for a long time."

"What else could it be? My dad works for the Ministry and he said the Wizengamot is torn on the subject. Since they can't prove he did anything wrong … nobody wants to be the first to say anything," Tina replied.

"What does your dad think?"

"Ugh. He thinks Snape is _hero_."

"Not like Harry though," Abby said dreamily.

Hermione shook her head. Was she going to have to listen to this all school year?

"I don't know. Professor Snape isn't so bad. He'd be far more respectable if you took away the jagged yellow teeth, dirty hair, huge nose, and viper personality – maybe even shaggable … I mean, if you're corpse with no options."

Abby pretended to gag.

Hermione set aside her magazine and walked over to the window. She was tired of listening to the girls yak and 'lights out' wasn't for another hour.

Glaring into the distance, she soon caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure strolling along the path below. She couldn't make out the person's features, but she recognized the cane immediately.

_The cane suits him, _she thought.

Hermione followed the Potions Master down the walkway. He was moving slowly, apparently deep in thought. Sighing, she glanced at her younger housemates.

_Not the actions of a wizard who practices dark magic…_

Although she had no clue 'how' he managed it, she was certain his miraculous return was just that – miraculous.


	13. Apologies and Questions

Severus billowed through the morning corridor. Most of the students cleared out of his path when they saw him coming but a few, namely Slytherins, remained steadfast.

"Malfoy, do you mind?" said Snape from behind.

Draco leaned over and murmured into Goyle's ear. Immediately, the taller wizard stepped aside. Neither of them acknowledged their Head of House, choosing instead to look straight ahead. They would only speak if they had too.

"Move so Snivellus can pass," Snape heard the young man say.

The remark pierced his emotional armor and for a brief moment, he was wounded. The only person he could have learned that from was his father.

"Thank you, Mister Malfoy," he said, deceptively cool.

Snape quickly darted between his students and hurried towards the Great Hall for breakfast. He entered the dining hall and walked furiously towards the High Table. As with previous mornings, none of his Slytherins greeted him on the way in. It didn't bother him really, but he noticed it nonetheless. Grumbling to himself, he took a seat on the corner and placed his usual order.

"Benedict eggs on dry toast; add bacon and hold the hollandaise," he barked to the elf below.

The helper nodded and disappeared.

"Good morning, Professor Snape," said Torres.

Professors Torres, McGonagall, and the newly appointed Head of Gryffindor, Sweetie, were seated towards the center of the table. They were smiling cheerfully in his direction. Severus didn't realize he was frowning until he was forced to fake a smirk. It was the nearest thing to a smile he could muster.

"Good morning," he replied with a curt nod.

Resting her lips on her teacup, Adrianna posed sexily. Several pieces of her dark brown lochs escaped her loosely fitted bun and encompassed her face. She was wearing lip gloss and mascara which was uncommon for career witches. Most preferred to go nude-face at work.

"Did you sleep well?" the DADA teacher asked, sipping her drink delicately.

Snape's mouth twitched. To the untrained eye, the sudden movement may have resembled a discreet smile, but it wasn't. It was a tick. He usually got it when someone said something he didn't like. Severus couldn't fathom why the witch would ask such a flippant question, but he saw no reason to indulge the Spanish tart studying him. Incidentally, he slept horribly. He always slept horribly.

"Well enough," he answered, reaching for the newspaper.

Snape cracked the newspaper open and held it deliberately over his face. He didn't feel like engaging in idle conversation that morning and Professor Torres definitely struck him as an idler. The wizard's eyes flickered with surprise when he read the bottom headline.

* * *

_DISAPPEARED! _

_Infamous news journalist, Rita Skeeter is missing. She was last seen leaving Knockturn Alley two nights ago. Persons with information concerning her whereabouts are encouraged to report their findings to the Ministry. Subsequently, the release of her latest editorial, "A Criminal Mastermind: A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing" has been delayed until further notice. _

_More to come as this story develops - __Dwayne Thomas _  


* * *

A photo of Rita Skeeter displaying her best-selling book, "The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore" graced the front page. It wasn't a particularly flattering photograph but then, she wasn't a particularly flattering woman. Physically she was acceptable, but her deceptive, busy-body antics ruined what nature had provided.

_Justice prevails … _the wizard thought, thinking back on her little striptease that summer.

The elf soon reappeared with the Professor's plate. Severus quickly set aside the news and focused on his breakfast. He would make it a point to follow up on developments, if only for amusement. It wasn't that he wished the witch harm, he simply didn't care if anyone ever saw or heard from her again – one less press whore.

Sometime later, Snape glanced up and spotted Draco entering the hall with his usual lot. They each took a heavy seat while the other houses looked on. Though many of them received permission to return to Hogwarts, they were under strict surveillance. Prefects, students and teachers watched them like hawks. Draco had escaped punishment thanks to Harry's good word and his father's testimony. He claimed that he cursed his son; that he had no choice, but to do the Dark Lord's biding. The false confession added years to his already extensive sentence.

McGonagall had no qualms with expelling any student if she had too. She hadn't denounced the elder Slytherins, but it was known that she didn't trust them. For that reason and others, Snape empathized with his charges. He had been the subject of much gossip and distrust in his life. Most likely, there were those among the staff and students that still suspected him of treachery. However, it was their burden to bear, just as it had been his – a lesson in life. They would simply have to earn the Headmistress's approval.

"Ahem, excuse me," said Professor Sweetie.

Snape acknowledged the old man with a _'what'_ glance.

"I was wondering if I might have a word with you, regarding one of your students."

"Here?" he muttered mid-chew.

Sweetie smiled.

"I was thinking this evening, after supper?"

"I am engaged this evening."

"I'll be quick about it so not to interfere with Miss Granger's detention," Nicholas assured.

Snape offered his colleague a surprised look. Apparently, he was well-informed. Granger's detention was a carry-over. He hadn't recorded it yet. Had she whined to him already?

_Gryffindors._

Some of them were too honest for their own good. Had she been a member of his house, she would have kept her superior in the dark for as long as possible. Some Heads, like Sprout, preferred to remain blissfully unaware of their student's minor offenses. It was an agreeable arrangement.

"Might I ask who, Professor?"

"Mister Malfoy," he answered, revealing nothing in his tone.

The wizard's face became dull with annoyance. He wasn't in a particularly charitable mood that day and didn't feel like rescuing the boy, but as Head of Slytherin, he was required to hear the Professor out. He hoped whatever it was didn't require anything more than a nod of acknowledgement.

"Very well … aah!" Snape said suddenly.

Something was pulling on his leg.

"Severus, are you alright?" asked McGonagall, straining to see what was the matter.

Nicholas also appeared concerned.

"Psssp … Psssp," a small voice said from underneath the table.

Severus lifted the cloth to find Olivia huddled underneath. She was staring up at him pleadingly.

"Sir, Olivia musts speak with you." She said.

"Severus, are you alright?" Minerva asked again.

Severus snapped up.

"I'm fine. It's just a cramp," he lied.

He didn't want everyone to know that he had a deranged House Elf at his feet demanding an audience.

"Oh …" said McGonagall, smiling awkwardly.

"Professor, Olivia really needs to speak with you." The little helper whispered. "Will you meet Olivia in the staff room?"

Severus rolled his eyes.

"My dear, is it that bad?" Minerva pressed, noting his aggravated expression.

"Yes … I'm afraid it is quite uncomfortable. Please excuse me," he rose. "I will see you tonight, Professor Sweetie."

Severus rubbed his leg suggestively as he limped towards the rear entrance.

_Bloody cretin,_ he thought, exiting the Great Hall.

McGonagall, Adrianna, and Nicholas observed him leave with a puzzled look.

"He certainly is an unusual man," Torres commented.

Minerva shook her head.

"He has his days."

* * *

From a distance, Hermione observed. She'd been watching the Potions Master since he first walked in and was curious to know what made him get up and leave so unexpectedly.

_And why was he limping? _

"Hermione …" Ron waved. "Snap out of it!"

The witch looked over.

"What are you staring at?" he asked, glancing over.

He didn't see anything of interest.

"Nothing," she said.

"Maybe she's daydreaming again," Harry joked.

Ron beamed. He never realized how deeply infatuated Hermione was with him until recently.

"I wasn't daydreaming! I was thinking."

"No need to explain, Hermione. You're entitled to your own thoughts," the redhead maturely defended.

Sighing, Hermione eagerly gathered her books. She didn't fully understand why, but she was curious to find out where Snape was headed.

"Listen, I need to get to Herbology. I'll see you guys' later, okay?"

"Yeah, okay." Harry and Ron said together.

The witch seemed enthusiastic, but then, she always seemed that way when it came to class. They both watched as Hermione hurried out of the Great Hall, undoubtedly on a mission to achieve the highest scores Hogwarts had ever seen.

"She's aiming to make history," said Harry before a punch landed on his shoulder.

Frowning, he rolled around.

"What the bloody hell was that for?!" he hissed, punching his friend back.

"That was for scaring her away! Don't you see? You embarrassed her."

Harry's face drew up.

"What? Don't be ridiculous."

"You did. Why else would she run out like that?"

"To get a jump start on class, you dope."

"She was dreaming about our future and you ruined it."

"Ron, don't be an idiot."

"Things are different now. She's clearly head over heels for me," the redhead boasted.

"You're going to be head over heels if you hit me like that again. Don't forget, I've committed most of Snape's old spells to memory," Harry said irritated.

"Yeah, Yeah …"

* * *

Severus stormed into the staff room and slammed the door. He didn't like being made a fool of and Olivia's little surprise visit made a spectacle of him.

"Olivia!" he barked. "Come out this instant!"

The elf was cowering in the corner. "Olivia is here." she said, stepping forward.

The wizard wheeled around.

"You better have a good reason for asking me here," he told her.

"Olivia is sorry for interrupting the Professor's breakfast, but Olivia needs to say she is sorry for last night," the creature confessed.

"What?"

An apology was the last thing he expected not close enough to the good excuse he had in mind.

Olivia stared at her feet while making invisible shapes with her toes. After returning to her sleeping station, she began to feel badly for raising her voice to her appointed master. Never in her tenure as a servant had she behaved so disrespectfully towards a human.

"Olivia was wrong to fuss. She is a bad elf. She deserves a good beating for the things she said. Olivia would happily take one if the Professor would consider forgiving her."

Severus stepped back, subconsciously distancing himself from the idea. Yes, he found her trying at times, but he had no desire to strike Olivia – hex her maybe, but not hit her.

"That won't be necessary. You will do well to remember that I am not a pleasant man and I WILL say things to upset you from time to time … just try not to take it to heart," the wizard said uncomfortably.

Olivia looked up. Snape hardened. He didn't like the look she was giving him.

"However, if you ever approach me as you did this morning, I will have you reassigned! Am I understood?"

"Olivia understands. She is sorry again."

The Potions Master's threat was the worst consequence imaginable for an elf. It was equivalent to being fired.

Snape bristled.

"Stop apologizing – just don't do it," he grumbled.

Olivia nodded. She wanted to apologize for apologizing, but quickly thought the better of it.

"Are we finished?" he asked.

"Yes, Olivia must go help with lunch … then she has loads of laundry to keep her busy this afternoon … then she must attend a boring elf meeting. Afterwards, Olivia is free to do as she pleases. Does the Professor have need for Olivia tonight?" she said, suddenly hopeful.

"Hm, yes …" said Snape, reaching for the doorknob. "Tonight, I should like a hot bath and a good book … the more restricted, the better … Oh, and I'd like a glass of McGonagall's 1776 single malt scotch. Rumor has it that she keeps it warded in her office. Do think you can manage that?"

Of course, Snape was being sarcastic. The elf knew perfectly well that he didn't take leisurely baths. All the elves did. He preferred cleansing spells and showers to soaking in a tub full of bacteria. As for the rest of it, there was no way that Olivia would ever breach the Headmistress's wards. It was ridiculous to think she'd try.

However, Snape underestimated the elf's willingness to please. Olivia took him literally.

Smirking, Severus opened the door and bolted out.

"Okay … Olivia does that," she said, thinking to herself.

* * *

Snape rushed out of the staff room and smack into a very surprised looking witch. He was unaware that Granger had been listening at the door.

"Miss Granger! What are you doing out here?" he asked, stumbling back.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"I asked you a question."

"I was looking for you," she recovered.

Snape raised his chin.

"Why on earth would you be looking for me?" he said doubtfully.

"To … to confirm what time detention was tonight."

"Miss Granger …" the Professor blinked. "I do believe Potter and Weasley are beginning to rub off on you."

Hermione immediately kicked herself. It was a stupid thing to say. He already told her what time to be there.

"Professor, how is your leg?" a voice interrupted.

Snape looked back to find Professor Torres leering nearby. Could she not see that he was talking to someone?

"It's fine," he replied.

"What happened to your leg?" said Hermione, grateful for the change in subject.

"It's fine," he testily reiterated. "I will see you at 8 o'clock, Miss Granger. Don't forget your quill!"

Adrianna frowned when the Professor turned and continued down the corridor. Obviously, getting to know him wasn't going to be easy. Why was he so ornery?

Hermione glanced at her new teacher. The look in her eyes suggested that her interest extended beyond an inquiry into his well-being. She had taken aim and Snape was the target. Maybe she hoped to make the acquaintance of a wizarding hero – how opportunistic.

"Good day, Professor."

"Oh, good day – Miss …?"

"Granger," Hermione answered.

"Yes, of course … good day, Miss Granger."

Adrianna quickly turned and walked away, letting the young witch's name slip her mind. The Gryffindor didn't interest her in the slightest.


	14. Detention II

Severus was organizing his desk when he received a knock at the door.

"Enter," he said.

When the door opened, Nicholas Sweetie stepped inside. He stopped abruptly when he noticed all the jars of pickled creatures everywhere. It was reminiscent of a spooky museum.

"Good evening, Professor Snape," said the old man, admiring the wizard's showcase.

Some of the vases were large, some were small; some contained parts (eyes, feet, intestines, etc.) while others contained whole specimens. They lined every shelf and wall space that wasn't occupied with books and supplies. A few of the jars were used as centerpieces for the works stations. The cobwebs, dust, and dim lighting made the floating corpses pop with morbid life. It seemed as if they were all screaming the same thing, _save yourself!_

Snape remained stone faced but inwardly, he was smiling. He didn't have to ask what was wrong. He already knew. Those jars kept many a student and teacher in line.

"Do you fancy interior design?" Nicholas asked, observing the gloomy motif with some fascination. Such creepiness had to be intentional.

"I have no interest in frivolous pursuits," Snape responded. "How may I be of service, Professor?"

"Ah, yes … straight to the point. I like that," said Sweetie, regaining his mobility. "As promised, I'll be brief. I am here on a matter concerning, Mister Malfoy."

"What has he done?"

"Um, well … nothing, at least nothing wrong. I came to ask your permission to don the young man. He requested tutoring lessons."

"Tutoring lessons?" Severus repeated, seemingly astonished.

"Why, yes. He seemed most interested in pursuing a career in archeological excavation. As you know, transfiguration is widely used in transforming tools, supplies, and objects for discreet transport."

There was a moment of silence between the pair. Snape was at a loss for words. Was 'his' Draco seeking personal aid from the Head of Gryffindor? Why wouldn't he just hire a private instructor? His mother could certainly afford it.

"I don't understand. Why you need my permission?"

Nicholas smiled.

"It's a formality really. After all, he is your charge and these lessons will require that we meet several times a week until Christmas, most likely at night. If it pleases you, I will keep you abreast of his progress."

Severus was insanely curious to know why Draco had requested lessons, but he couldn't outright ask. Perhaps, the request was legitimate but it was difficult to imagine the boy working for a living. He always assumed the wizard would adopt the Malfoy lifestyle. His father may have been in prison, but his family fortune was still intact.

"Please do, but I would prefer that Malfoy not know that I know."

Sweetie offered the Potions Master a puzzling look.

"Of course," he said hesitantly.

About that time, there was another knock at the door.

"Come in!" Snape barked, startling the Transfiguration teacher. "Sorry – old habit," he quickly amended.

Hermione walked inside and closed the door. She blinked surprisingly when she saw her Head of House standing in front of Snape's desk.

"Sir?"

"Hello, Miss Granger." He said warmly before turning to Snape. "Thank you for your time, Professor. I will be on my way now."

Severus nodded with less severity than he usually offered. After all, the old man was kind of enough to come to him. Nicholas shot Hermione a sympathetic smile as he passed. Being stuck in such a horrid place for any amount of time was punishment enough.

After Sweetie was gone, Hermione sat down and took out her quill.

The Professor reached into his drawer and pulled out her unfinished assignment. He then walked over and gently placed it on her desk. Appearing a bit smug, Snape returned to his desk without further instruction.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione went to work.

Hermione worked diligently, copying potions accident after potions accident. Though the cases were genuinely horrific, after a while, they began to run together. It was explosion this and burn that, terrible scars here and loss of appendages there. She still empathized with the victims, but as the writing pressed on, her outlook became more and more clinical. She simply wanted to finish.

"Miss Granger, you may take a break, if you like," said Snape after an hour had passed.

He would allow a two-minute pause, if she needed it.

"Thank you Professor, but I'm nearly done." She replied, writing vigorously as she spoke.

Snape thought nothing of the decline and returned to his papers.

Hermione soon reached the last file. She dully read over the chart with as much interest as her tired eyes could muster. Seconds into her reading, she noticed that none of the information was blacked-out. Her eyes rounded when she read the name on the paperwork.

* * *

_Patient's Name: Severus Tobias Snape _

_DOB: January 9, 1960_

_DOD: May 2, 1998 (recorded) see attached chart _

_Re-Admitted: May 09, 1998_

_Ailment: Presumed dead _

_Prescribed Treatment: Not available_

_05.09.98 Patient was found unconscious in the dungeons. His death was recorded a week ago and was being kept in stasis until funeral arrangements could be made. The patient appears to be suffering from severe dehydration and near fatal blood loss, but for reasons I cannot explain, he has vitals. No further information is available at this time. _

_05.10.98 – the patient is responding to fluid replenishing potions, but remains unconscious; St. Mungos Healer, Rodney Vaughn, arrived today. He will serve as co-advisor._

_05.11.98 – Healer Vaughn has discovered mass amounts of peptide toxins in the patient's bloodstream. They are similar to the toxins found in Arthur Weasley's snake attack. More testing is required._

_05.12.98 – the patient is responding to Vaughn's elixir, but organs and tissue are still saturated with poison._

_05.13.98 – the puncture wounds on the patient's neck are healing, but he is still experiencing leakage. _

_05.14.98 – no change; patient is experiencing chills and high fever. _

_05.15.98 – the patient briefly regained consciousness _

* * *

Hermione gasped.

_How did this get in here?_

Snape heard the noise and glanced up.

"Miss Granger?"

Several seconds passed before the comment reached Hermione's brain. When it did, she looked up.

"Sir?" she croaked.

"Is something wrong?" he inquired.

The witch had to think quickly.

"No, sir ... just another horrid accident," she lied.

Snape let out a snort and looked at the clock.

"Time is up, Miss Granger. Have you completed the assignment?"

"Um, yes …" she said, hiding Snape's file beneath her hand.

"Then set aside your quill and pass your work forward," he ordered.

_Think, Hermione – think …_

"Yes, sir …" she said, arranging the copies into a neat stack.

The Gryffindor waited until the Professor wasn't looking before slipping the mistaken file into her bag. Afterwards, she nervously read and re-read the charts she had copied.

"Granger …" Snape called out. "_Pass _your work forward."

Hermione gathered her things and hurried towards the front of the classroom. She placed the folders on the corner of his desk and held out her work. She stood on pins and needles as Snape made quick work of reviewing it.

"This will do," he said a moment later.

The tension in the witch's shoulders melted away.

"I am ready for my test," she said confidently.

"I'm sure you are," the Professor replied, throwing the stack of papers into the fire. "… but I have no desire to test your knowledge."

Hermione's face fell as she watched her work go up in flames.

"Sir – why did you do that?"

Snape observed her frustration with a certain level of detachment.

"Miss Granger, lest you forget, this was _your_ punishment – not mine. Do you think I enjoy spending my free time with students or grading non-academic work?"

He may have enjoyed issuing detention, but he did not enjoy hosting it. That was Filch's job. However, in rare instances it was necessary.

"If you think I am going to sit here and indulge your vanity, you have another thing coming. I am confident that you completed the assignment and that is enough for me. Here is your pass. You may leave now," he explained, holding out the parchment to the Gryffindor.

Stunned, Hermione glared at the wizard. He waited for her to snatch the note out of his hand, but to his astonishment, she did not.

"Thank you, Professor," she said resignedly, accepting the pass.

Snape didn't consider her reaction strange. He was simply content to see her go without a fuss. As she was preparing to walk out, Hermione paused and turned around.

"Sir?"

"Yes – Granger?"

"Why do you use a cane?"

The tightlipped wizard slowly looked up_. _From his perspective, that quaffle came out of left field.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I saw you last night from my window and you were walking with a cane. Why? You appear to be in good health. I mean ... it's not like you're old and decrepit."

Snape's puzzled expression dissolved. He didn't feel compelled to explain. Moreover, it was inappropriate for her to ask.

_These young wizards and witches have no sense of propriety …_

"Recent habit," he dryly answered. "You are dismissed."

The Professor returned to his papers, leaving the witch to stare after him for a moment. He made a good show of not noticing Granger noticing him. Once she was finally gone, he stopped writing and scoffed amusingly.

_Glad to know that 38 isn't old and decrepit_ …

* * *

Severus sauntered into his library and removed his teaching robe. It had been a long day and he was looking forward to stiff drink and a good night's rest. Just as he was retrieving a bottle of port, Severus noticed a shred of flickering light on the wall in the next room. He instantly became suspicious. He never left his chamber firing burning during the day. Setting his glass aside, the wizard withdrew his wand and proceeded cautiously. He stayed close to the wall as he crept into the bedchamber.

_Lumos! _

There was enough light to see that the room had been laundered. Apparently, Olivia had paid him another visit. At least he hoped it was Olivia. He would be furious if another elf entered his room. About that time, Severus saw another flicker of light. He wheeled around to find that it was coming from his lavatory. He extinguished his wand and treaded softly to the edge of the doorway. From there, he peeked around the wall and spotted Olivia bent over the tub. She was working by candle light. The wizard reacted with a deep snort.

"Olivia," he said plainly, stepping into full view.

The little elf was putting the final touches on everything when she heard her name called. She immediately spun around.

"Oh, Professor Snape, sir …" she nervously replied. "Finished so soon?"

"Obviously … what are you doing here?"

"Olivia does as the Professor requested!" she said proudly, moving aside so the wizard could see the elaborate bath she had drawn for him.

The water was so hot that the vapors were clearly visible. Olivia used plenty of soap to make the water extra foamy and decorated the bubbles with wisteria pedals. A small silver tray levitated nearby. It was just large enough to hold a glass and book.

Severus didn't know whether to laugh or shout. Instead, he dropped his head and cuffed the bridge of his nose.

_The little cretin took me seriously?_

Well, in all fairness, she was an elf and they had a habit of taking everything literally. It was ironic that two creatures with no sense of humor should be paired together. He briefly wondered if that was Minerva's private little joke or something. After all, she was the one who assigned Olivia to him.

Olivia's cheery smile faded.

"Olivia did as you asked!"

Severus recalled the elf's reaction the night before and rebuffed the idea of making her cry again. He would simply thank her and remember to be more mindful of what he said from now on.

"It's fine … thank you," he mustered.

Instantly, the little helper's face lit up.

"Please get undressed so Olivia can gives you bath."

With her petite arms extended outward, the elf moved towards Snape. She planned on assisting him with his buttons.

"What?" he said in an exasperated scoff. "Are you insane?!"

"Olivia doesn't know what that means."

"It means crazy! I refuse to let you see me unclothed OR _bathe_ me!"

Olivia appeared genuinely befuddled.

"Why?" she asked.

"Why? Because it is indecent! That's why!"

"Olivia has seen plenty of wizards. You all look the same to her. You either pink or brown, doughy or thin, straight or curved, big or tiny, and depending on the time of day, smelly." She said, pinching her nose and waving her hand for emphasis.

Severus couldn't resist smiling. It's not that he found her explanation funny, he was just amazed by the absurdity of it.

"What do you mean by doughy or … never mind. When have you ever seen a wizard naked? I was under the impression that your last household was run by a Mistress."

"Olivia sees them when she goes to collect towels from the boy's room. And yes, Olivia did serve a Mistress before coming to Hogwarts, but that was ages ago."

"It's been less than six months," the wizard said flatly.

"Professor, the water is getting cold. Get in! Get in!"

"I don't care! I am not undressing in front of you!"

Olivia smiled. She didn't have the heart to tell him that she found all humans revolting in 'that way'.

"Okay, Olivia goes into the next room and waits." She relented, passing the wizard by.

"No, Olivia just goes away!" Snape barked, slamming the door behind her.

He didn't care if he hurt her feelings. There was no way in hell she was giving him a bath.

Mumbling to himself, Severus began to disrobe. There was no need to let the bath go to waste. He boringly went down the train of buttons and slid out of his outer coat. Afterwards, carefully untied his cravat; peeled off his boots, shirt, and trousers until finally he was nude.

Severus looked in the mirror and took a brief inventory of himself. For such a slender wizard, he had an impressive physique. Not that anyone ever noticed. He was still relatively young and eligible, but far from likable. Unlike many his age, the wizard had maintained much of his adolescent tone and athleticism. His face was more ghoulish and mature than he would have liked, but he wasn't born to an easy or simple life. Much of it had been spent slaving over the past in order to save the future. Apart from wearing a constant glamour, which he refused to do on principle, there was little he could do about his ugliness. Besides, it made him more menacing. Time would tell what impact his role in the war would have on society's opinion of him, but one thing was certain, no amount of recognition would make him handsome.

Severus stepped into the bathtub and winced. The water was hot, much hotter than the taps allowed. Evidently, Olivia used magic to keep it warm. As with everything else, she over did it a little. The wizard eased himself into the pool of foam and laid back. Once he was situated, he closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.

Moments later, Severus reached over and took the glass of ale off the levitating tray and brought it to his nose. His eyes fluttered with delight after taking a huge whiff of the golden brown substance. The bouquet was buoyant, smooth, and expensive; nothing like his usual lot. The wizard suddenly recalled what he told Olivia and his eyes sprang open.

"Olivia!" he shouted, forgetting the fact the he was immersed in a pool of water completely naked.

"Yes," she said, opening the door.

Apparently, she did not heed his order to leave.

"What is this?" he asked, holding the glass up.

"It's what you requested. McGonagall's 1776 single malt scotch. She keeps it in her …"

"You broke into the Headmistress's office and stole her ale?"

Olivia shrank.

"Yes, but Olivia stole nothing. She only fulfilled the Professor's request."

Snape slapped the water and let out a string of curses so vile that even the most hardened prostitute would be forced to blush. Fortunately, Olivia didn't understand most of them. However, her ignorance didn't negate the feeling that she did something terribly wrong.

"Olivia is …"

"DON'T!" the wizard warned.

He didn't want to hear anymore of her apologies.

Severus took a deep breath and stroked the throbbing vein in his temple. How could she be so stupid? If her theft got back to Minerva, the woman would be livid! Ultimately, he'd have to make it up to her and that was NOT on his list of things to do. Even worse, the hoity-toity witch would probably insist on some insane compromise or something.

"Olivia …" he said, sounding less angry. "Surely, you must realize that what you did was very wrong."

"But - -"

"I know I requested the scotch, but I never thought you would actually get it. I was being ... sarcastic!"

"Olivia aims to please," she sadly whispered.

The wizard relaxed into the water and sighed. It was in an elf's nature to do whatever they were asked. In truth, the blame lied with him.

"Did you leave any evidence?" he asked, his head still hung.

"No, sir! Olivia was careful. She only took one glass full. But …"

"But?" said Snape, looking up.

"But Olivia thinks the portrait Dumbledore saw her leave."

Severus brought the glass to his nose again. He took a small taste and smacked his lips in appreciation. It really was superb.

"Portraits may only reveal what they are asked to reveal. If you were careful, I highly doubt McGonagall will inquire." He said, savoring another sip.

Olivia brightened.

"Would the Professor like to read?" said the elf, gesturing towards the silver tray and the old leather volume.

"What is it?"

"The Mysteries of Elvedon," Olivia said with pride.

A small smirk crossed the wizard's face. He was actually amused.

"I seem to recall asking for _restricted_ material." the wizard said, reaching for the book.

"It is! No human has laid eyes on this book in 500 years. It's sacred. It has all of our history and magic inside."

_Perhaps, the reason no one has laid eyes on it in 500 years is because no wizard has cared to read it._ Severus thought, but wisely refrained from saying.

"Very well, I'll give it a whirl."

"Does the Professor needs anything else? Perhaps, he would like Olivia to wash his back?"

"NO!" Severus snapped. "I can wash my own bloody back! You may go … _with_ my blessing."

The tiny insult was lost on the elf. She smiled, bowed and popped out of sight. After she was gone, Severus resigned himself to reading the book Olivia recommended. Although he found the idea comical, he cracked open the volume and dove in anyway.

_In the period known as middle-Earth …_

* * *

**A/C:** Thanks for reading and many thanks for your comments!


	15. Points and Proposals

As tradition dictated, Gryffindor and Slytherin played the first Quidditch match of the new term. Madam Hooch served as the referee, but her presence did little to discourage the Slytherin players from behaving in their usual winner-takes-all manner. Thirty minutes into the game, the Slytherins had a comfortable lead.

"Slytherin 40, Gryffindor 10!" The announcer said.

Snape watched as his charges aimed, rushed and hammered the Gryffindors from every angle. He wasn't entirely pleased with their tactics, but he was satisfied with the results. Whenever they scored, he clapped nobly but refrained from appearing overly enthusiastically. A win was a win and to see the Gryffindor team run through, tickled him a bit.

The Slytherin Beaters took turns maliciously batting bludgers in the direction of non-Beaters. The Gryffindor Beaters were able to fend off most of the attacks, but they suffered a few bruises in the process. In fact, minutes into the game, Weasley suffered a serious blow to the side. He spiraled helplessly towards the magically enhanced surface of the pitch. He landed hard, causing the sand to bloom on impact. The crowd roared when the dazed redhead regained his footing and smiled.

"Quidditch is a rough sport," said the referee in an effort to calm the furious wizard mounting his broomstick.

"Bloody cheaters," he grumbled.

"Are you okay?" asked Harry, swooping down to check on his friend.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just hate that they sacked me in front of Hermione!"

"Well, maybe you'll get a sympathy snogg out of it."

"Ya think?" Ron said, brightening up a bit.

Hermione hadn't kissed him in a week.

Harry didn't have the heart to tell his friend that he was kidding. Hermione had been acting strange since returning to Hogwarts. He simply hoped Ron noticed on his own and branch out. Perhaps, he'd consider dating Lavender again. Rumor had it that she was still pining over him.

Potter and Weasley eagerly rejoined their teammates, but the next hour proved difficult. It was an agonizing repeat of the same slippery tactics and failed maneuvers. Whatever points the Slytherin team lost in penalties was quickly undone with a score or a key block. It seemed that they were unstoppable.

* * *

"Slytherin 110, Gryffindor 30." The announcer said halfheartedly.

He was a Hufflepuff and Hufflepuffs generally supported Gryffindors in match ups such as these. Hermione watched the massacre unfold with utter disgust. She wasn't a huge fan of Quidditch, but since her dearest friends were playing, she felt invested.

"They're getting creamed out there!" she screamed in the noise crowd.

Neville shook his head.

"No argument there. I'm sure glad I didn't sign up this year."

Hermione shot the wizard a crooked smile. What did he mean by _this year_? She couldn't recall him ever trying out for Quidditch. Not that she blamed him of course. It was an uncivilized sport, played by modern day gladiators in a wizarding style coliseum.

"Why doesn't Professor Snape do something?" she asked, not really expecting an answer.

"Did I hear you correctly? Just look at him," Longbottom said, motioning towards the wizard high in the stands. "That's not the face of man who cares. Watching us get slaughtered on the pitch is the cherry on his day."

"Unsportsman-like conduct!" Hooch hollered. "Slytherins are charged 10 points!"

Ginny climbed out of the stands. A Slytherin chaser had run her aground. To make matters worse, he ran her right into the arms of Draco Malfoy and his welcoming committee.

"Stop hiding and get back out there!" said Draco, giving the witch a helping shove.

Hermione watched as the Head Girl scrambled to get out of the snake pit. She was a fine player, but like all the other Gryffindors that day, she was off her game.

"That was illegal!" Hermione seethed.

The witch turned away. She just couldn't watch anymore.

Hermione searched the Slytherin stand. She quickly spotted the object of her interest sitting alone. Although his peers surrounded the Professor, he seemed to prefer his own company to theirs; or maybe, they preferred their own to his. It was hard to tell. Snape was engrossed in the match. She stared at him intently, secretly hoping he might feel her eyes on him and look her way, but he never did.

"I need to talk to him," she intoned.

When Neville noticed his friend was gone, he searched the crowd. He soon spotted her making a narrow, but quick getaway down the steps.

"Hey? Where are you going?" he said over the cheers.

"To use the loo! I'll be back in a few minutes!" she answered, not bothering to look back.

Longbottom returned to the game.

"Ouch," he sighed, wincing with the crowd.

* * *

Severus observed with quiet disapproval after the first hour. He wanted his House to win, but not at the expense of its suffering reputation. He didn't want credence given to the growing stereotype, which implied that all Slytherins were inherently unfair.

Now that the war was over, Snape hoped to dispel some of the dark labels that had been placed on his House thanks to Riddle and his lot. It was a lofty goal and probably unrealistic, but with all of the post-war optimism going around, it was worth a try. After all, Salazar Slytherin wasn't evil. He was an extraordinary wizard, bound to an elitist belief that many shared in his day. History and generations of wayward thinkers cast him as the villain in order to justify their own wickedness. It was high time the members of his House were valued for something other than pureblood mania.

_It's going to be a long year, _he thought, frowning over the Weasley girl's treatment.

Snape glanced over and found McGonagall trying her best to mind-hex him back into the grave. She was scowling from across the field, but her disapproving glare closed the distance between them.

_What would you have me do?_ His eyes replied. _It's Quidditch!_

The sound of Hooch's whistle distracted the Headmistress for the millionth time that afternoon. Another Gryffindor was helping himself off the ground.

_Moron! _Snape chided, reprimanding his own player.

The Slytherin chaser who performed the illegal block was gloating as he resumed his position.

Severus was more than ready for the snitch to be snatched so he could call the team back to the dorm. He wasn't a favorite among them as it was, but after he finished with them, they would surely despise him!

"Excuse me, Professor?" a woman's voice said.

Snape looked over to find Professor Torres seated beside him. He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he hadn't notice her sit down.

"Good afternoon, Professor ..." he said, pausing to observe her outfit. "A little warm for that, isn't it?"

She was wearing a gray cloak, trimmed in fur and black gloves.

"Scotland's climate takes some getting use too," she said.

"It's only 50 degrees."

"Yes, horribly chilly for a woman like me. I've never liked the cold."

Snape crinkled his nose and looked away. Once again, he despised idle chit-chat and she definitely struck him as an idler. The wizard concentrated heavily on the landslide match, wishing his players would hurry up and seal the victory.

"You must be very proud of your students," Torres said. "They're doing quite well today."

"They're winning. That is enough."

"Enough? Winning is everything, isn't it?"

Torres sounded very surprised by Snape's lack of enthusiasm.

"Winning is the objective; it's not everything. It is still important to play the game respectably."

Adrianna blinked.

"Well, well … how very, Gryffindor of you." She said, clearing her throat.

Severus looked at the overly feminine Professor with an arched brow. She was still new. He'd let the remark go this time.

"Adrianna …" he said, taking care to _say_ her name rather than sneer it.

The witch perked up.

"Poppy mentioned that you weren't feeling well. Do you think it wise to be out in this dreadful weather?" he asked, mocking the witch with feigned concern.

"I was feeling poorly this morning, but I'm fine now. How kind of you to inquire," she smiled, stroking her soft fur lapel.

Snape turned to the game. He hadn't meant it that way. Moments later, Torres asked a question that seemed very much of out of the blue.

"Do you have plans later?" she said, studying his hawkish profile.

"What sort of plans?"

"Well, if you're not engaged, I was hoping that you might join me for a drink. I have a lovely …"

"No." said the wizard before she could finish.

Adrianna's mouth closed abruptly. How rude!

"I have to patrol," he quickly explained.

"Oh, don't be silly. It's Saturday! Surely, you're entitled …"

"No," he said again, more firmly this time.

Although he was facing the match, he could still see the witch from the corner of his eye and she looked annoyed.

"Very well … another time, perhaps?"

"I doubt that, Professor. I am a very busy man."

Adrianna forced a cheery smile and placed her hand on the wizard's thigh. Stunned, Severus slowly looked down and observed her glove with bemused detachment. This wasn't the action of a colleague.

"I only wish for us to become _better _acquainted, Professor."

"We are _acquainted_," he replied, still focused on her hand.

"Are we really? Well, that's wonderful news! Still, I would like it if we were _friends_. I believe that we could benefit from each other. You'll find that I'm quite an asset; especially on those lonely, winter nights when all you need is a friend who _understands_ you needs," she said softly.

Adrianna made no attempt to disguise her meaning as the wizard looked up. Fortunately, no one else heard. They were too involved in the game.

Severus cleared his throat and briefly looked away. The gesture was discreet, but her meaning was not; a rare offer indeed.

"Professor," he croaked, looking back to meet her sultry brown eyes. "Please remove your hand."

The buxom beauty smiled a deliberate smile and honored his request.

"Oh, pardon me," she said, feigning embarrassment. "You're right, of course. I should be indoors. I will leave you to enjoy the match in peace. I trust that you will consider my offer?"

Adrianna wasn't his type and her proposal seemed outrageously farfetched, but he might be able to find it in himself to tolerate her company if sex was on the table. It sure sounded like that is what she was offering, though he couldn't place why. Still, he hadn't been bedded in years. Despite his deep affection for Lily, he was a man with needs; needs that had nothing to do with love. Prior to Lord Voldemort's return, he indulged in the occasional back alley transaction. It was a rare deed and it came at a price, but it did the job.

Snape offered his colleague a faint, unsure smile.

Standing, Torres waved the Professor goodbye and sashayed away. He didn't feel obliged to defend her honor when an admirer called out to her from above. She was, after all, Hogwarts's DADA instructor. Surely, she could defend her own honor. More importantly, he wasn't sure if she had any.

Severus was a modern wizard in the sense that he acknowledged a woman's sovereignty over her own sexual well being, but something about the witch struck him as cheap and wanton. The offer may have been genuine, based some physical need, but his instincts told him that she was after something else. It was the _after_ that he didn't trust.

"Psss … Psss … Professor, down here." a disembodied voice said.

Scowling blackly, Snape looked down. All he saw was his boots.

"Olivia?" he murmured back, recalling the time she hid underneath the High Table.

"Who?" Hermione said confusingly. "No, it's Hermione Granger! I'm below the bleachers. Please sir, may I speak with you?"

Snape's expression shifted from displeasure to surprise, then back to displeasure.

"Granger, this section is reserved teachers and guests!"

"That's why I am down here and not up there, sir," she said as politely as she could. "Will you meet me in the hollow?"

"What for?"

"Please, sir, it won't take long."

Snape glanced in both directions. He felt like an idiot sitting there, carrying out a conversation with a disembodied voice, but thankfully, no one was watching.

_How did she slip pass the Prefects?_ He wondered.

"This had better be good," the wizard snapped.

The Professor launched himself out of his seat. Yes, he would meet the Gryffindor, but if he wasn't satisfied with her reason for demanding an audience, she was going to reap the consequences.

Snape flew down the circular staircase with a mixture of curiosity and irritation. He paused briefly when he heard the score bell ring again.

"Slytherin 140, Gryffindor 50," the announcer said bleakly.

At this point, the Hufflepuff was as outwardly bored, as he was inwardly befuddled.

Snape felt the stadium tremble with applause. He quickly latched onto the banister to avoid tripping. Once the cheers passed, he resumed his course until he reached the main level. He walked briskly towards the lower cabinet; then traveled down a flight of steps leading to the pitch's trenches. When he reached the hollow, he found it empty.

"Miss Granger?" he called out.

When she didn't respond, he assumed he had beaten her there. The Professor stood under the base and looked up at the game. In truth, it wasn't a bad spot. He could see more from this vantage point, particularly the cheap shots some of his players were taking.

* * *

Hermione crawled through the stadium shafts on her hands and knees. She tried to avoid the wallows of spit, sand, and food as she made her way through the wooden canal. She hadn't attempted anything like this since her first year, but it was easier back then. She was much smaller!

Hermione waited for the Prefects to clear out once she reached the exit. In some ways, she was behind enemy lines. When the moment came, she made a dash for it and hurried down the stairwell. A few guests eyed her suspiciously, but no one said anything.

* * *

When Hermione entered the hollow, she found the Professor waiting.

"Professor," she said, walking up to greet his profile.

Oddly, he didn't look over.

"I'm sorry to call you down here like this and I realize this is something my Head of House should say, but it's about your students, sir … they're not playing fairly!" she told him.

Snape took his time about answering. He debated whether he should scold the Gryffindor's audacity or play along. Civility won out. Granger may have been a tad precocious, even as an adult, but she had a small point.

"And what would you have me do about it, Miss Granger?" he calmly replied.

He wasn't pleased that a student was addressing him on the matter, but the fact was that his charges _were _being overzealous. Still, it was Quidditch – not afternoon tea. Brutality was common and expected.

"Stop the game. Talk to them!" Hermione spat.

"Would you have me fly out there and scold them, Miss Granger?" asked Snape, his lip curling as he slowly turned around. "Should I order them to behave more like your housemates? They're not exactly playing by the rule book either or didn't you notice?"

"Our players aren't the ones running people aground! And no, I don't expect you to just fly out there, but can't you speak with them during intermission? Aren't you concerned for the student's safety?"

"Whose safety are you referring too?"

"The players!" snapped the witch.

His nonchalant attitude was really starting to annoy her.

"I see," he said, relaxing his brow a bit.

"Granger, please step forward."

Hermione hesitated at first, but moved closer.

"Closer," he said.

She took another step.

"Closer…"

And another.

"Closer," he mouthed.

After a few more baby steps, Hermione was standing under the Professor's glare. She didn't understand why, but being in such close proximity was making her uneasy.

"Up – look up" he softly instructed.

Hermione opened her mouth to object, but the look on Snape's face said she better not. She did as she was told and observed the players buzzing above. It really was a great spot, despite the fact that it was a bit dark and dank down there.

"Tell me what you see," he said, unaware that he was standing closer than Hermione would have guessed appropriate.

"I see a Quidditch game underway," she sternly pointed out.

"How astute – what else?"

Hermione searched the skies, but saw nothing – just more of the same. It was war up there!

"I see your students taking cheap shots," she murmured.

The remark irritated Snape, but he made no attempt to combat it.

"Keep watching," he said.

* * *

The Golden Snitch finally appeared, giving Harry his chance to shine, but the Slytherin Seeker, Millicent Bulstrode wasn't going to roll over and let that happen. Maybe she wasn't as talented as the Chosen One, but she had twenty or thirty pounds on the wizard. She'd muscle her way through.

The crowd exploded. They were ready for the finale.

"There's the Golden Snitch!" the announcer cheered.

Potter shot after the shiny ball, closely pursued by Bulstrode. They ducked, wove, and charged through the stands, skies and trenches. Harry managed to keep a good lead on the witch, but she was determined not let him out of her sight.

"Maybe you should have skipped lunch, Millicent!" Harry teased, hoping to anger the witch and throw her off her game.

At that moment, Potter and Bulstrode shot pass Hermione and Snape. Harry didn't see either of them, but they saw and heard him clearly.

Severus smirked.

In truth, Hermione didn't feel the least bit sorry for Bulstrode, but she hated that Professor Snape heard what Harry said.

"Sir, I fail to see the point of this exercise," said Hermione, turning away.

"STAY put," Snape ordered.

The witch did as she was told, but what was he trying to prove?

The two seekers battled it out for another twenty minutes. Harry spent most of his time trying to shake Millicent so he could make his move, but the witch was hot on his tail. If he reached too soon, he might miss. He couldn't afford to make a mistake with a Slytherin Keeper so close behind.

"Get off me you fat cow!" Potter sneered as he soared almost vertically into the sky. He was tired and annoyed. The Gryffindors were getting a sound whooping at the hands of their rivals. Right now, all he wanted was to end the game on a high note.

"Eat me!" the witch spat.

"Is that all you ever think about? Eating?"

"Say that to my face!"

"I thought I did or was that your ass?"

"Yeah, you'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Potter? You're nothing but a fag!"

"What did you call me?" said the wizard, seemingly astonished.

The sudden loss in concentration cost the wizard his momentum. Millicent smiled and pressed forward. Within seconds, they were neck and neck. Harry was so angry that he slammed into Bulstrode, but his push had no affect. She was too heavy to knock around.

"Get off!" he seethed.

The Golden Snitch took a nose dive. Potter and Bulstrode followed. It plummeted until it reached the trenches. Once there, it bounced through the hollow like an elf drunk off butterbeer. Harry and Millicent finally caught up with it a few seconds later. They remained neck and neck as they circled the underground.

"It's mine!" Harry shouted.

Bulstrode ignored the wizard and reached for the ball. Potter grasped his broom handle and slammed into the witch once more, accidentally pushing her forward. Millicent grabbed the Golden Snitch, but quickly lost control of her broomstick and spun out of control. She ran smack into one of the high beams which knocked her off her handle and propelled her onto the surface. When she finally stopped rolling, Millicent was face down in the sand.

Harry immediately pulled back and an eerie silence befell the crowd.

Snape's interest quickly morphed into real concern. He was about to levitate himself onto the playing field when he saw Millicent stir. Remaining face-down, she stuck out her arm and held up the Golden Snitch.

The stadium burst into applause. Even the Hufflepuffs cheered. Everyone, including Harry, was relieved.

"Slytherin catches the Golden Snitch! Slytherin wins!"

Hermione closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. Hearing this, Snape looked down.

"Granger?" he prodded.

Hermione turned towards the Slytherin. The smug look on his face stung almost as much as the realization that her housemates were behaving just as horribly, which was a real eye opener for her. In fact, Harry's behavior was completely off the reservation. She had never seen or heard him behave that way!

"Professor …" she said, embarrassed by what she had just witnessed. "I'm sorry. Please forget what I said."

Satisfied, the wizard responded with a faint sneer.

"Gladly," he said, storming off to check on his student.

* * *

**A/C:** Mm. Yes, very strange behavior indeed :) For those who asked, I had LOTR in mind when I wrote the last sentence in the previous chapter. I may choose to explain why there are human elves and servant elves later on. Maybe bridge the two worlds (magically speaking). No infringement intended.


	16. Strange Happenings

Snape felt vindicated. At last, he'd proven a lifelong point. Gryffindors were not beyond reproach. Although he planned to address a few things in the next House meeting, the Professor would refrain from chastising his charges. There was misconduct on both sides!

_Albus you were wrong. The boy is his father after all,_ the wizard thought.

Snape billowed passed several gossiping students, ghosts, and teachers as he made his way to the hospital wing to check on Millicent. They were all discussing the game. Some were intrigued, even impressed while others seemed displeased and shocked by the outcome.

"They cheated!" one boy hissed.

The ghost floating beside him wobbled his head in agreement.

"It is the only logical explanation," said Sir Nicholas. "I cannot recall Gryffindor ever loosing that badly."

Severus ignored the chatter. They had won and that was that. A small smile crossed his face when he glimpsed the giant hourglass in the foyer. It now contained more emeralds than the other Houses – a sure sign that things were looking up.

Snape hurried into the infirmary to find Millicent undergoing an over-the-robe examination. Pomfrey waved her wand over the witch as she laid flat in the cot. Her body was rigid, stony even – probably the result of a stabilization charm to keep her still, but she looked unperturbed by the situation. Bulstrode, the man-witch, had just won Slytherin's opener. Undoubtedly, she was proud beyond words.

"How is she?" Snape asked worriedly.

"Not to worry, Professor. Miss Bulstrode is fine. She has a fractured rib and a few bruises, but nothing I can't handle. She'll be out of here in time for supper." Poppy smiled.

Millicent smiled back, but instead of happiness, her countenance reflected a lesser degree of discontent. She just had one of those faces.

"Miss Bulstrode, please know that I intend to speak with the Headmistress regarding Potter's actions …"

Poppy's eyes became wide with objection when Millicent's head snapped around. The charm did not apply to her head and neck.

"No, Professor Snape!" Bulstrode spat. "I don't want you too!"

No one would have ever believed that the girl-Amazon was capable of out seeking the infamous Gryffindor prior to that day. She only got the job because no one else wanted it, but even her own Housemates didn't have much faith in her abilities. They hoped if they bruised Potter, shook him up a bit, that they would gain the advantage. They did their best of course, but Millicent's win was her own. Potter was still capable of defeating her when it happened. If Snape intervened, he could rob her of her prestigious victory.

Stunned by her reaction, Snape opened and closed his mouth several times.

"Miss Bulstrode, I saw what really happened. You could have been seriously injured! It's one thing to be … _overzealous_, it's quite another to be malicious!"

"I don't care. Slytherin won. That's all that matters," she reasoned, knowing that Potter did more to help her than hurt her in the end. "Besides, we took a few crap shots ourselves and if they're reprimanded, the Headmistress will surely take us down with them!"

Snape frowned. The witch had a point.

"Harry, did what? I don't believe it!" said Poppy.

Snape ignored the Matron and focused on his student.

"Surely, you don't think …"

"Professor, please!" Millicent pleaded. "The Headmistress might ask for a rematch. You know how she feels about her precious Gryffindors. She'll probably want to give them a chance to redeem themselves."

"Now, Miss Bulstrode …" Pomfrey said ridiculously.

Severus shot the Healer a _stay-out-of-this_ look, which Poppy met pointedly. She shot him equally severe flash that said _this-is-my-bloody-ward_! Snape was a brave man, but not so brave as to take on the Matron when it came down to it. He would just have to couch his opinion.

"If you cost us this victory," Millicent continued. "You will be ousted by your own House for the remainder of the year, possibly longer! Is that what you want?"

Snape observed his Slytherin charge knowingly. Millicent was trying to manipulate him using his disfavor against him. As a teacher of Hogwarts, his Slytherins gave credence to his title, but not him, a harrowing fact that he had tastefully concealed until then; however, an upset of this magnitude might push them away completely.

"Very well … if you're sure, I will do as you request," he begrudgingly conceded.

Severus wanted nothing more than to see the son of James Potter put on display for once, but not at the expense of damaging his relationship with his House further.

Millicent breathed a sigh of relief and turned towards the ceiling. Snape remained close by while Pomfrey finished her examination and subsequent treatment. When she was done, she sent the witch on her way. Bulstrode departed without as much as a thank you to her treacherous Head of House. The gesture did not go unnoticed.

"Severus, I can't believe Harry would do such a thing!" the Matron finally put forth.

"You weren't there, Poppy. I saw it with my own eyes," he calmly replied, watching Millicent float down the stairwell as if she was made of feathers.

"That's … that's …"

"A Slytherin tactic?" he dryly finished.

Poppy shrugged.

"Well, yes."

"A namesake will only take you so far in life. We all have a little of the other inside us," he wisely reasoned, dredging up something Dumbledore told him once.

_I think we sort too soon …_ he recalled.

"I still don't believe it!"

Snape turned to leave. He had things to do before supper. He didn't feel like arguing.

"Severus …" Poppy called out.

The wizard stopped and slowly back.

"Yes."

"How have you been? Apart from meals, I rarely see you anymore."

Pomfrey's concern made Severus uneasy. He didn't doubt her sincerity, but he didn't care to be mothered.

"I am fine." He assured.

"You're not experiencing any residual effects, are you? From your coma, I mean."

Snape shifted. His dreams as of late were disturbing, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. Dreamless drought was an option, but to avoid dependency, he refrained from taking it too often.

"Everything is fine, Poppy." the wizard said respectfully.

"Good, good. I will be sure to include that in my notes. That is, if I ever manage to locate your file!" the Matron joked.

The admission struck the Professor.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, it's nothing to be concerned about. It seems I have misplaced your medical record. I'm sure it's around here somewhere."

_I should hope so ..._ the wizard thought.

He wasn't worried, just a little stunned. Poppy was a competent administrator so it seemed a little strange that she'd lose track of something that important.

"On another note, have you met with the New Order since your return?" she asked.

Severus frowned deeply.

He was done with the Order and all the fools associated with it! He had enough Ministry showboats owling him as it was. He planned to use his fame to his advantage one day, but not now. It was too soon. Everyone outside of Hogwarts wanted a piece of him. They all wanted to know all the gory details of his service. He couldn't help but feel that some of them were out to uncover his crimes as a spy. What ghastly acts did he perform or witness in Voldemort's name? How many people did he witness raped, mutilated, and murdered? If they knew, they might re-think his pardon and throw him in Azkaban. He did what he did because no one else was around to do it. No one else could protect Lily's son the way he could.

"No! Nor do I intend too! I am quite satisfied with things the way they are. The commendable participants are now dead and those that refused to fight stand in their place! This _New _Order is comprised of nothing but whiny, Ministry brats disguised as members!" Snape seethed, unaware that his temper was showing.

Now it was now Poppy's turn to frown.

"Besides, it seems a little redundant to have a secret organization that everyone knows about!" he sardonically added.

The Matron bit back a smile and waved the wizard off.

"Really, Severus, you're impossible! Good day, to you!" She snickered. Poppy hated to admit it, but she agreed with him on all counts.

Snape gladly resumed his course.

_She should have known better than to ask,_ he thought.

* * *

Snape made a b-line through the main corridor towards the dungeons. He was lost in thought as he passed several disgruntle Gryffindors. It seemed they were all sulking over their miserable loss that afternoon.

"Professor Snape!" said a familiar voice.

The wizard stopped and slowly eked around. Hermione hurried up, leaving the Gryffindor chatterboxes dazed by her sudden absence.

"May I speak with you?" she asked, initiating a walk.

"Miss Granger, I dare say this is becoming a habit. What is it now?"

Hermione lowered her voice.

"It's about your point, sir."

"What about it?"

"I prefer to discuss the matter privately," she insisted.

Snape rolled his eyes.

"I am very busy, Miss Granger. Consider the matter closed," he said, darting ahead.

Hermione stopped. She wasn't sure what had come over her that day, but her mind felt like it was in a fog. Her thoughts and actions seemed to converge into one uncoordinated blunder. Should she quit while she was ahead?

The witch took an inventory of the corridor and found nearly everyone was watching, including Professor Torres. It seemed her over eagerness was showing. Snape was almost to the dungeon door before he heard his name again.

"Sir," she said, hurrying to catch up.

Snape stopped and looked incredulously at the Gryffindor.

"Didn't I just tell you - -"

"Yes, I heard you, but it's important."

The Professor paused for several long seconds. Whenever a student declared something was important, a teacher was more or less obligated to listen.

"Make it quick," he mumbled.

Hermione motioned towards the antechamber. It wasn't exclusive, but it was better than the hallway. Snape let out an audible sigh and followed her aim. After securing the entrance with a silencing charm, Hermione approached the wizard.

"Sir, you were right." She admitted.

"If you are referring to Gryffindor's humiliating defeat this afternoon, I know." He coolly berated.

"Yes, I was referring to the game and our House's conduct." Hermione tactfully admitted.

"Get on with it, Miss Granger. What do you want?"

Hermione fidgeted for a moment.

"It's not what I want, but what I don't want."

Snape broke character long enough to appear genuinely confused. That changed when the witch burst into plea. She surprised him to the point that he was forced to take a step back.

"I've spoken with Harry and he feels just awful about what happened. He didn't mean to hurt Millicent. He was just …"

"… in it to win?" the Professor finished.

Hermione could almost feel the temperature in the room drop.

"And?" he said, giving her a chance to make her point.

"Don't you see, sir? We're the only ones who know about it. No one else saw what happened."

As if a light had turned on, the Slytherin's face ballooned with acknowledgement. Her pressing concern was a matter of self-interest or rather, the interest of Gryffindor's pride.

"All the more reason for me to speak with the Headmistress, don't you think?" Snape taunted, somewhat astounded by Granger's audacity.

Hermione took a deep breath. She knew convincing him wasn't going to be easy. Snape still despised, Harry. That much was obvious.

"You were in the infirmary earlier. What did Bulstrode say? Is that what she wants?"

Snape's amused expression faltered. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"That's none of your business, Miss Granger," he said, pausing to consider something. "How did you know I was in the infirmary?"

"I … I just assumed. I mean, you are her Head of House." Hermione corrected, not wanting to tell him that she too had paid Millicent a visit. She turned around and left when she saw him there.

Snape jerked his chin. He wasn't sure if he believed the witch, but it didn't matter.

"As I said before, the matter is closed."

_She can thank Bulstrode for that,_ the wizard thought.

"Harry was terribly wrong – Professor, but Slytherin behave badly too. I would be willing to testify on Harry's behalf," the Gryffindor bravely put forth.

Something indescribable flashed in the wizard's eyes.

"Are you attempting to elbow me into submission, Miss Granger?" he said, teetering on a genuine laugh.

Hermione met the wizard with a stiff chin, but did not answer. It wasn't blackmail. She was fighting fire with fire. Stoic as ever, Snape studied her face over an exaggerated pause. He didn't appear angry as much as amused. Hermione remained perfectly still, refusing to flinch. It would ruin the effect.

Professor Snape didn't consider her threat a threat. In fact, it was downright sloppy, but the attempt was an anomaly. Smiling, the wizard step around the witch and walked away.

"Noted," he said.

Hermione's face contorted. Had she won?

In the olden days, the wizard would have slashed 20 points on the spot and scolded the presumptuous chit until she cried. He would have then spoken with her Head of House, but not this time. A small part of him, felt something was off and her little show fit right in.

Severus stopped a few inches from the door and looked back. Granger returned his curiosity with a lukewarm smile. Shaking his head, Snape blasted through the door without another word.

* * *

Severus worked furiously, but pointlessly as he shifted books, papers, and nick-knacks around his study. He wasn't focused on the task. He just needed to occupy his hands. Olivia was busy cleaning his chamber when she heard him enter. She immediately looked at the clock. It was only 6:30.

_Professor Snape is back early,_ she thought merrily.

The little elf threw her washcloth over her shoulder and went to greet her favorite wizard. When she entered the study, she was surprised to find him so unsettled. More importantly, he was making a mess.

_Olivia just finished fixing those!_

"Professor Snape, is something wrong?" she said, carefully eyeing the set of volumes he was rearranging.

Severus didn't think twice about Olivia's presence. She had taken to cleaning his chamber several times a week and he had grown accustomed to her being there.

"Nothing," he spat.

Olivia narrowed one brow suspiciously. Snape caught the spectacle out of the corner of his eye and smiled inwardly. She knew better than to say it, but the elf didn't believe him.

"Slytherin won the opening match today." He announced.

Olivia's face filled with glee.

"Hooray! Hooray! Slytherin wins!" she cheered, throwing her towel into the air and dancing in a small circle.

The wizard didn't share the elf's enthusiasm completely. Something was still bothering him. Olivia's grin quickly faded when she noticed Snape wasn't celebrating. Not that he was the happy-go-lucky, celebrating type.

"That's good, right?" she said, bringing the party train to a halt.

"Good. Yes. Quite." Snape answered with an unconvincing smirk.

"Then what is troubling the Professor?"

"I don't know!" he suddenly barked. "Things just feel off. I can't explain it."

"Try – please," said Olivia, sitting down to listen.

"For starters, that egghead … _Granger_, just tried to elbow me into keeping quiet about what I saw this afternoon at the game. She was sloppy and immature, completely without tact or subtly … not to mention, she didn't have a story to tell, but she still tried! I am a teacher and a Head of House! She should know better! There was a time, despite it all, she would have. But that's not entirely it … today at the match, Professor Torres approached with an _offer_, a very … unusual offer. Women don't generally make offers like that, not to me. Correction – women NEVER make offers like that to me. I suppose I should chalk it up to hero worship (one can only hope), but I can't shake the feeling something is wrong!" he ranted.

Had he been thinking clearly, he would have noticed that he was pouring his thoughts into a House Elf – a very confused looking House Elf. Olivia didn't understand the point he made about Torres, but she was astonished that a student would behave so boldly.

"Would the Professor like Olivia to put inching powder in Granger's bed?"

"What? No!" he spat before pausing to consider the idea more carefully. "Er, thank you – but no. That won't be necessary. I should have docked her colossally, but something was amiss …"

Olivia shrugged off the decline and happily listened as the Professor tossed around his ideas and observations. She may not have been the wizard's equal, but she was happy to be his friend.

* * *

When Hermione entered the Great Hall, she noticed the Slytherin table was rowdier than usual. No doubt, they were still celebrating. The witch moved quickly towards Harry, Ginny, and Ron.

"Hi," she said, seating herself next to Harry.

The wizard was mulling over his roast beef and didn't respond. Ron also seemed less than merry.

"Hey," the redhead said.

A few minutes passed before Hermione spoke again.

"Guess what – I talked to Professor Snape!" She offered in the way of conversation starter. "I think he's going to overlook the whole thing."

The declaration forced Harry to snap out his self-induced fog.

"You did what?" he said disbelievingly.

"I talked to Professor Snape." She said with less haughtiness.

"Why?"

"I told you, Harry. He saw what happened."

Potter frowned.

"You shouldn't have done that, Hermione."

"What do you mean? What did he see?" Ginny asked innocently.

She had no idea what Hermione was referring too.

"Nothing," Harry quickly answered.

The last thing he needed was his girlfriend on his case.

"I want to know," Ginny insisted.

Ron quickly came to his best mate's rescue.

"It's nothing, Gin. Hermione was just upset over something Harry said to Bulstrode. That's all."

Harry looked at Hermione pleadingly. _Don't tell her,_ his eyes said.

Ginny shot her brother a nasty, _don't hand me that crap_ look.

"Hermione?" the witch pressed.

Hermione considered both wizards for a moment.

"He's right, Ginny. It's nothing," she finally answered. "I overreacted."

"Why would you be upset over something Harry said to that ugly cow?" Ginny said. "Slytherin was all over us today!"

"It looked as if Gryffindor was fighting back," Hermione sneered, secretly referring to Harry's actions.

"Quidditch is a rough sport." Ginny defended.

"Barbaric is more like it!"

"Okay, okay – that's enough," Ron interrupted. "Can we just eat?"

Hermione piled her plate with food. She wasn't hungry; she just wanted to fill the awkward silence with something other than meaningless chatter. It was still hard for Hermione to accept that her best friend could behave so deplorably. What would people think if they knew? Yes, Harry, expressed regret over his actions, but did he mean it? What was he thinking?

When Ginny got up to retrieve the salt, Hermione seized the opportunity to talk to Harry privately.

"Do you plan to apologize to Millicent?" she whispered.

"What? Is that what Snape wants?"

"Er, no. It didn't come up. I was just curious."

"No, Hermione – what's done is done. Besides, she and her teammates aren't exactly innocent, okay?"

"I know, but you're better than that," she nudged.

"Why? Because the world thinks I'm a hero?"

"No! Because you're a Gryffindor and a role model!"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Oh get off it, Mione."

"You get off it!"

"Hermione, will you shush? Do you want everyone to hear?" Ron hissed.

"Fine, I won't say another word!"

"Thank you," the wizards said simultaneously.

Minutes later, Snape entered the Great Hall. Hermione was eating when she spotted him barreling down the aisle. She hoped he didn't stop. Much to her surprise, he billowed pass the Gryffindor trio without so much as a wayward snort. Once he was gone, she glanced over. She watched him take his usual seat on the corner.

"Good evening, Professor Snape," Nicholas cheerfully greeted.

"Good evening," the Potions Master said curtly.

"The roast beef is superb tonight. You should try some."

Severus accepted the old man's suggestion with a nod and began his selection. He helped himself to a portion of roast beef, vegetable soufflé, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce and sweet peas. Nicholas observed with rounded eyes as the slender wizard also made room for a little pudding.

_How does he manage to keep such a modest waistline? _

Severus usually had a mild appetite, but after such a whirlwind day, he could use the distraction.

"Did you enjoy the match today?" Sweetie inquired.

"Yesss," the wizard unintentionally hissed.

Frankly, he had grown tired of the subject.

"As did I," Nicholas said unperturbed.

Snape observed the old wizard suspiciously.

"I find that difficult to believe, considering your House lost."

"Be that as it may, it was a thrilling event." He said, chewing robustly. "I enjoy seeing those who need it most, win."

Severus wasn't sure what to make of Sweetie's comment. Was he implying that his Slytherin players were desperate? The wizard was always on the defensive when it related to his House.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Nicholas smiled warmly. "Oh, I did not mean to imply that your Slytherins were in dire need," he said, echoing the Potions Master's thoughts. "Just that ... with everything they now face, perhaps it was better they won. It will do their confidence good."

"And what would you know about their needs?" Snape said darkly.

"Lest you forget, dear man, I am donning one of your students. He has shared some of his concerns with me."

Suddenly, Severus felt foolish. He had forgotten about Malfoy.

"Yes, of course …" said Snape. His tone was almost apologetic. "Mister Malfoy, confides in you?"

Sweetie set down his fork.

"Perhaps, confide is too strong of a word. On occasion, he vents. That's all. Keep in mind, I am a Gryffindor and my skills as a Professor will only take me so far in his eyes – still, I am hopeful he will set aside his schoolyard misconceptions one day."

"Don't get your hopes up," Snape said sullenly.

"In the end, hope is all we have," Nicholas chuckled.

Severus ignored the old wizard and dove into his supper. Every so often, he would glance up to find his charges merrily regaling their day. It was good to see them so lively, even though he had reservations about their methods for achieving success. A short time later, Snape turned his attention towards the Gryffindor table. The do-gooders disposition was the polar opposite of their rivals. They all appeared in a rut.

_Gryffindors are incapable of handling defeat,_ he mused.

About that time, he noticed Hermione watching him. He stopped chewing and met her gaze pointedly. When the witch noticed him noticing her, she turned away. Snape intoned a scoff.

"The Gryffindor hasn't taken her eyes off you all evening," Torres whispered.

Hearing that, Severus rotated his head to find the DADA teacher seated in the chair that Flitwick had just vacated.

_She moves quickly._ He thought, recalling their previous conversation.

"Really," Snape said civilly.

For whatever reason, her comment failed to register with the wizard right away.

"I do believe the _little_ girl is enamored with you," Adrianna teased. "I've notice her behavior recently and it screams puppy-love."

Severus suddenly felt as if he had been splashed with a bucket of ice water. He snorted so loudly that he drew the table's attention. Incidentally, Sweetie was already listening. He heard what the Professor said and he didn't care for the witch's assessment. Even if she was correct, she was wrong to bring the young girl out so callously.

"Don't be ridiculous!" the wizard spat.

"It's true, but I don't think she's yet aware of it," said Torres, reflecting on her own misspent youth. "Not that I blame her. You're an interesting man and she's a … well, she's a lovely young lady – I'm just surprised it hasn't happened before now. I can almost remember what it was like at that age. So sweet, so _innocent_, so …"

"You are mistaken – badly mistaken," he said uncomfortably, cutting the witch off.

The insinuation was inappropriate table conversation! More than that, it put him off his appetite. Snape wiped his mouth and set down his napkin. He couldn't be certain if Adrianna was mocking him in some way. Fearing that she had miscalculated, she tried to apologize.

"I meant no offense. It was just a silly observation," she said, disguising her nervousness with a giggle.

Snape studied his colleague for a moment. He hated it when girls giggled, even more when women did it.

"Silly ... yes." he soon agreed.

Torres adjusted her low cut blouse, hoping to give the moody git something else to appreciate. Obviously, her verbal skills weren't doing the job. She pretended not to notice him eyeing her form as she carefully smoothed down her bust. Snape knew what she was doing and discreetly obliged. She was gorgeous to a fault with her two greatest attributes situated comfortably beneath her.

Severus didn't doubt that she had a few beaus back home, perhaps, a few in Scotland. How could she not? Judging by her sexy demeanor, the witch knew her craft. She also seemed like the type of woman who endeavored to please, though Severus wasn't sure if he liked that. Submissive women reminded him of obedient dogs.

"If you will excuse me, I have to ready myself for patrol." He said respectfully.

Torres perked up.

"That sounds interesting. Perhaps, I could patrol with you?" she offered.

Snape slowly stood up, pausing to consider the absurdity of the idea.

"No, thank you … I prefer to work alone – but if you're interested, I believe the east wing is unmanned tonight. Have a good evening," he said before billowing off.

Adrianna watched helplessly as the black clad wizard exited the hall. Torres didn't mean to upset the Professor. She only meant to dislodge a potential rival. Hermione was years younger and at the age of consent. Although unlikely, it was still possible. She just hoped she hadn't ruined _her _chances.

Torres snatched a bread roll from the course set up. She bit into it furiously, unaware that Sweetie was sitting next her smiling.

_Ha!_ He thought.

* * *

**A/C:** Whew! That felt like a long chapter. Hope everyone enjoyed it!

**2012 Update:** I've been working to revise this story. There were so many mistakes! Thanks for reading.


	17. Cruel Intentions

Olivia waddled through the boy's shower room carrying two armfuls of laundry. The towels were piled on so high that she could barely see where she was going.

"Hey!" one boy shouted.

"Oops! Please excuse Olivia," the elf apologized.

"Watch where you're going!"

"Olivia is terribly sorry young, sir."

"You dropped something," another boy informed.

"Thank you, sir. Olivia will come back. Coming through, young masters! Coming through!"

"It's so hard to find good help these days," she heard someone say.

"Look out!" said another boy.

"A thousand apologies little master," the elf said.

Olivia made her way to the laundry chute and threw the dirty folds down the hatch. Afterwards, she headed back to gather more towels. Morning in Slytherin House was always the busiest time of day. Towels had to be gathered, clothes had to be washed, and beds had to be dressed. Everyday cleaning was a synched, but balancing the students schedule with house maintenance proved difficult sometimes. Elves were expected to remain unseen.

Olivia moved quietly through the lavatory, searching for more discarded cloths. It was difficult to see clearly through the immense steam, but because of Olivia's short stature, she was able to navigate the haze with relative ease. She did her best to remain inconspicuous but occasionally, she'd run into a student or trip over something, which usually ended with an insult or laugh.

The elf came upon several soiled garments in the corner of the boy's shower room. They looked as if they had been deliberately sullied and placed there for her to pick up.

_Ewe … _she thought, dangling one item while pinching her nose.

Olivia heard several third years snickering in the background, but sadly, there was nothing she could do about it. This was her job. She carefully placed the dirty garments into another, less soiled towel. As she was doing that, she overheard some of the older boys talking in the next room.

"So … how are your lessons coming, Draco?" Shuler asked.

The blonde wizard focused on his reflection as he combed his hair.

"Fine," he responded.

Horace Shuler, a fellow seventh-year, dug deeper.

"It's just strange …" he began.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. He had a pretty good idea what was coming next.

"Why Professor Sweetie?"

"Why not?"

Horace shot his housemate a fool hearted look.

"Well, he's Gryffindor's Head of House for one."

"Yeah, so. I'm getting what I want. That's all that matters," Malfoy reasoned.

"And what is that exactly?" Horace pressed.

Draco's eyes shifted from his reflection to Shuler's. He smiled coldly into the mirror, but did not respond. He had no need to explain himself to Horace. Who was he to question him?

"Goyle!" the wizard shouted.

"Yeah, what?!"

Goyle was in the stall behind him finishing his morning routine.

"Aren't you finished yet?"

A few seconds passed before Gregory responded.

"I'll be out in minute," he strained.

Draco frowned.

"Well, hurry it up. I'm hungry."

The warlock turned to his nosy neighbor in the mirror.

"Tell me … did you enjoy last weekend's match?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Shuler with a dumber-than-thou expression. "I received an owl from my dad yesterday morning. He's still psyched!"

"Good, good. If you want to continue to reap the rewards of my good will, I suggest you stop asking questions about things that don't concern you and try to enjoy your pathetic existence at this pathetic school for another year. Okay?"

Malfoy shot the boy an icy glare and waggled his brows meaningfully. He then turned around and shouted at the running shower stall again.

"Goyle! Hurry it up! I'll be in the common room."

"Oh … oh … Okay!" the wizard answered.

With an aloof smile, he brushed passed the dazed looking seventh year as if he were invisible and darted pass Olivia. She was glad he didn't notice her there. It was a well-known fact that he didn't respect House Elves.

Olivia waited until the boys were gone before she peeked around the corner. Keeping one eye trained on the exit, she carelessly moved into the next room.

"Ah!" she yelped, barreling towards the floor.

After slipping on a wet cloth, the elf landed face down onto the stone tile. Luckily, the other boys had vacated the area. Otherwise, she would have been the laughing stock of the lavatory. The aching creature massaged her big nose and slowly got up.

_Uh, Olivia hurts bad …_ she thought before a terrible runt caught her ear. It sounded like someone was choking.

The small elf trotted up to the steaming stall. If a student was choking, she could transport them to the hospital wing in a flash. She snatched back the shower curtain and paused. Her brows and ears shot straight up in reaction to what she saw.

With his head titled back, Goyle stood inside the streaming water with one giant hand on the wall and the other fisting his manhood. His eyes were closed and his mouth looked as if it was fishing for air. He was so lost in thought that he didn't hear the curtain open. The wizard continued to tug on his outstretched member as he whispered several intelligible phrases.

"Take it! Take it! Hm, yes … I want more of that Spanish pussy … give me more … Yes, yes, yes …take it!" he intoned, violently jerking his hips forward.

Suddenly, Goyle's lids flew open. His face became unreadable as his eyes quickly lost their focus. The boy's endowment soon erupted, expelling creamy fluid onto the wall. The virtual choking seemed to intensify as the wizard desperately tried to confine his release to the shower stall.

Olivia didn't know what to do. She feared the worse.

_He must be terribly ill._

"Uh … uh … (gulp) … uh," the young man groaned.

Once his cries had subsided, the elf spoke.

"Is you okay, young master?" Olivia said worriedly.

Horrified, Goyle looked over. He stood there for a moment, trembling amidst depletion, shock, and humiliation.

"What the FUCK are you doing in here?!" he bellowed.

Olivia's brows and ears dropped. She let go of the curtain and moved away from the stall. The naked wizard ripped it back open and stepped out of the shower. There was a look of rage in his eyes as he snatched a towel off the bar and fastened it around his waist.

The elf nervously looked around. As fate would have it, the room was abandoned. Not that anyone would come to the aid of an elf.

"Were spying on me?!"

"Olivia is very sorry, young master. She heard noises … she came to help."

Goyle's face turned beat red. The elf heard him beating off?

"Liar! You were spying on me, weren't you?"

"No, young master. Olivia never spies!"

"LIAR!"

"Olivia goes now …" she said shakily.

"Oh, no you don't!" growled Goyle as he lunged forward.

Olivia ducked.

"Don't hurt me!" the elf cried.

"Oh, you're going to get it!" he said, trying again.

Goyle missed his intended target by one hair.

After barely escaping the wizard's grasp, Olivia scrambled towards the shower room exit. A handful of wizards watched in amusement as the little elf shot through the main lavatory on her way to the foyer. If she reached the door, her service would be considered over and she could wink out of there. With her ears tucked back and her arms extended forward, the small creature hot-footed it towards the exit.

"Stop her!" Goyle shouted to the sixth years standing close by.

One of the boys stuck out his foot and tripped Olivia up, causing her to slide a few feet forward. Goyle quickly caught up and snatched the elf off the bathroom floor.

"You useless piece of dragon dung!" he shouted, shaking the frightened little creature so hard that her eyes boggled.

"Olivia is sorry, young master! Olivia won't tell!"

Gregory looked embarrassingly around the sparsely inhabited room. "I caught this little pervert spying on me in the shower!" he told the onlookers.

"Throw her down the chute!" one boy shouted.

"Yeah do it, man! Throw her down the chute!" another boy cheered.

Goyle shot Olivia a wicked grin.

"Let's go for a ride," he said, toting the elf towards the laundry canal.

"Olivia said she was sorry!"

"Olivia can eat shit!" the wizard shot back.

"Throw her in! Throw her in! Throw her in!" the boys chanted as their housemate prepared to cast the elf down the canal.

Goyle held Olivia up and whispered dangerously into her ear. "If you ever tell anyone what you saw, I will find you and drown you in the Black Lake!" He warned before cruelly shoving her down the chute.

Olivia let out a shriek as she tumbled down the dark hole. Smiling triumphantly, Gregory turned towards his housemates.

"Stupid elf," he laughed.

The boys burst into applause.

* * *

Hermione and Neville worked side by side, furiously trying to complete their potions in time. It didn't help that Snape was strolling around the room, aloofly critiquing each student's assignment as they worked. Some took his presence with a grain of salt while others struggled to endure his penetrating gaze.

"Why doesn't he just sit down?" Neville whispered.

"He's just making sure we do it right, that's all."

The wizard looked doubtful.

"Don't forget to add the flubberworms," Hermione kindly suggested.

Yes, she had her own brew to worry about but as usual, she was ahead of the game.

"Oh, thanks." He said, reaching for the slimy worms.

Severus looked boringly over the cauldrons. Unfortunately, he had little to say about the class's progress. It seemed his NEWT level students were doing surprisingly well that day.

"Satisfactory, Stephens" he softly remarked.

"Stir clockwise, Bones …"

"Miss Brown, you are lagging behind. Hurry it up," Snape flatly informed.

When the Potions Master reached Granger and Longbottom, he paused. He rarely missed an opportunity to make the wizard miserable, though he was finding that more difficult since the war ended. Apparently, the boy grew a pair since he last taught him.

"As usual, your counterpart is light years ahead of you, Mister Longbottom," said Snape, leaning over his shoulder for effect.

He was so close that Neville could feel the Professor's breath on his neck. Neville wisely refrained from commenting, but the wizard's proximity was making him uncomfortable. He had worked hard, very hard to earn a place in NEWT potions – taking extra classes and tests to make up for lost time, but Snape was a lot harder and meaner than Slughorn.

"You know … if it were up to me, you wouldn't be here right now. Be thankful that Professor Slughorn took pity on you."

Hermione's eyes flashed up. _That was uncalled for,_ she thought.

Neville did not respond.

After the Battle for Hogwarts, Slughorn awarded Nagini's slayer with a merit recommendation. This propelled him to 6th year NEWT level Potions. Under Slughorn's tutelage, he made up for lost time over the summer and passed all the necessary exams. Of course, Horace didn't do it because he was fond of the boy or because he excelled in the art, but because he was a celebrity fanatic. It also didn't hurt that the Gryffindor would owe him in the future.

Snape remained close by, watching Neville's every move for several minutes. It wasn't long before the young wizard broke out into a beaded sweat. He was so desperate to receive an "O" for his Benedict Potion that he weighed every decision twice. He wouldn't allow the Professor's presence to ruin it. Simply put, it was time for him to get over his school long fear of the snarky wizard.

"I am nearly finished, sir," he bravely informed, though his lip was trembling.

Hermione stood back as she added her last ingredient. Afterwards, the mixture burst into cloud of gold smoke, indicating that it was finished.

"I am done, Professor Snape." She proudly announced, hoping to distract the wizard for a moment so Neville could work in peace.

Snape shot the witch an annoying glance and walked over to inspect her work. As usual, the brew met his requirements. The wizard nodded and placed an "O" beside her name.

"Very passable," the Potions Master said in a rich, monotone voice.

Hermione smiled in appreciation. That was as close to enthusiastic as Snape got.

Neville was so caught up in the witch's appraisal that he unintentionally grabbed a bottle of dried unicorn stool. Without looking, he added three dashes of it to his cauldron. Shortly after, the potion began to bubble.

Snape was busy reviewing his notes when he smelled something putrid. He looked over to find Neville's mixture gurgling. It was the shade of vomit. The young wizard was already working to correct his mishap when the Professor spoke.

"Longbottom! What did you do?"

The Gryffindor panicked.

"I don't know, sir!"

Neville glanced over and spotted the used bottle of unicorn stool.

"Oh, no …" he intoned.

Snape's eyes widened when he realized what the wizard had done. "Move out the way!" he hissed, practically knocking the Gryffindor over.

The Potions Master frantically reached for the cover. He barely had the lid in place when the potion erupted. Hermione and her classmates screamed. A small portion of the brew escaped and splattered onto Snape's hand, forcing him to drop the lid. Cradling his fist, Severus quickly whispered an incantation and sealed the cauldron shut. He then turned on the stunned Gryffindor.

"Bloody, MORON!" he seethed.

"I'm sorry, Professor Snape. It was an accident!" Neville defended.

"You're the accident, Longbottom! You're very existence is a complete wonder! How you've survived this long is a mystery beyond my understanding," the pained wizard berated.

Neville didn't cry, but he looked embarrassed. Hermione felt terrible for her friend, but Snape was right. How could he be so careless? Any one of his neighbors could have seriously injured.

Mumbling something, the Potions Master retreated. He had an emergency med kit in his desk. It would get him through until he could see Poppy.

_IDIOT!_ he privately scolded.

The class observed the injured Professor exit the classroom. Afterwards, they turned on Longbottom with a measuring glance.

"I'm sorry," the wizard offered.

"Don't apologize, Neville. It was an ACCIDENT," Hermione said to the staring faces.

One by one, the class returned to their assignments.

"I'll be back. I'm going to check on the Professor." She whispered.

Longbottom looked incredulously at the witch, but said nothing. If she wanted to have her head bitten off that was her business.

* * *

Severus retrieved his med kit and tossed it onto the desk. He had a difficult time unlocking the box with one hand, but managed to open it after a few tries. Snape angrily plundered through his vast supplies for his very own burn paste. It was foul smelling, but more effective than the infirmary version.

"There it is," he said, pulling out a small jar of blue solvent.

"Professor Snape?" Hermione delicately voiced.

The wizard didn't look up.

"What do you want, Miss Granger? I've already recorded your grade," he coldly snapped.

"I'm not here about my grade," the Gryffindor staunchly replied. "I came to see about your hand."

"Oh, I see … you're a Healer? Does Pomfrey know?"

Under normal circumstances, the witch would have laughed, but for some reason she wasn't amused. She was very concerned for the man straining not to wince in her presence.

"Perhaps someday … but for now, I am just a concerned pupil."

Snape stopped what he was doing long enough to snort. It wasn't a sincere laugh, but one intended to mock.

"Trying to smooth things over again, is that it?" he sneered, recalling their conversation about Potter the previous Saturday.

Hermione fell silent. Perhaps, that jab was justified.

Snape slowly looked up and observed the witch for a moment. She wasn't trying to defend herself. Evidently, his words hit home.

"Very well, Granger, you may assist me by coming over here and opening this jar."

Hermione darted across the room. She opened the paste and reached for his hand. As a matter of habit, Snape pulled back. He didn't like people touching him.

Hermione frowned.

"Professor, it would be easier if you let me do it," she said.

Severus weighed the decision for about five seconds before reluctantly flinging his hand forward.

"Be quick about it," he sighed.

His tone wasn't as acidic as he would have liked, but it did the job. Hermione gently caressed the wizard burned fingers with one hand and scooped paste with the other. She carefully and methodically, massaged the greasy, blue solution onto his skin. The moment it made contact, it created a cool sensation that swept over the wizard. However, he resisted the urge to shiver. He didn't want the witch thinking she had solicited that reaction.

Snape observed her fingers. They were soft, vibrant, and youthful. They lacked the pain and hardships of his rough, pale hands. The contrast was remarkable, but not nearly as memorizing as the care she took in applying the medication. If he didn't know better, he might think she was enjoying herself.

Although it wasn't Hermione intention to inject emotion into her work, she found herself roaming his cold skin. It was strange to hold the hand of a wizard who held the life of so many. He watched some die horribly, some he saved but one thing remained true, this was the hand of a brave man.

Snape was on the verge of recalling what Professor Torres said when Hermione spoke.

"Does that feel better?" she asked, unaware that she was communicating a type of tenderness in her voice.

"Yes. If you don't stop soon, you'll rub off what little flesh I have left," he said venomously.

Hermione dropped his hand immediately.

"Yes, of course" she replied, her recent warmness gone.

Snape wanted to say something, but he didn't know what. He wasn't accustomed to being grateful and didn't know how to construe the feeling much less articulate it. Snape remedied the awkwardness by busying himself with clean up.

"Thank you, Granger, please return to class," He managed, his confliction apparent only to him.

Hermione sighed inwardly and walked away. She wasn't upset, just misplaced; like a person abruptly awoken from a dream. Strange.

"Oh, and Miss Granger …"

She quickly looked back.

"Yes?"

"Please inform Mister Longbottom that I will have a talk with him later!"


	18. Small Discoveries

Severus waited until classes were over before paying Pomfrey a visit. He billowed into the infirmary to find the witch with a patient. Rather than interrupt, he paused and waited. She eventually noticed him and turned around.

"Oh – hello, Severus. I didn't hear you come in. Is everything alright?"

Severus carefully removed his bandage and flexed his sore hand. The splattered burns ranged from small blisters to large whelps, discolored and moderately painful. The paste Hermione administered reduced the chance of nerve damage, but it did very little to restore the appearance and over health of his hand. That sort of healing required a specialist.

"What happened?" the Matron asked, rushing over.

The wizard's lip curled as he spoke.

"Potions accident," he answered.

Snape blamed Professor Slughorn more than Longbottom for what happened. Though he didn't care for the boy, it wasn't entirely Neville's fault. The wizard didn't belong in Potions.

_Bloody, merit recommendations. _

Poppy carefully inspected his hand.

"Mm, it looks as if someone has been playing Healer," she said with a meaningful smile.

The wizard's thoughts centered on Hermione. As it turns out, the Gryffindor was more of a help than a bother.

"A little," he relented.

"Tut, tut … does it hurt?"

Severus did not respond. He merely shot the Healer a cynical look. After a moment, Poppy glanced up.

"I will take that as a yes. Well, I must say that's a relief. It means your nerves haven't been damaged. You know … last month I stumbled upon a spell that I've been meaning to try. When combined with medication, it works wonders. Wait here and I'll find it."

Once the Matron was gone, Snape turned towards his neighbor. He was surprised to find an elf lying in bed. Few elves visited the infirmary. The creature was draped in a blanket. He wasn't sure if it was his poor eyesight or what, but the patient seemed familiar to him. From a distance, he quietly studied the motionless form.

"Olivia?" He murmured.

The small creature rolled over. When she saw the Professor, she grinned.

"Professor Snape came to see Olivia!" she squealed.

Snape's face took on a ridiculous expression.

"Uh, no - I came to see, Poppy." He corrected.

The elf's ears dropped.

"Oh."

"What are you doing here?"

"Olivia fell and bumped her head."

She was afraid to tell him that a Slytherin student had thrown her down a laundry chute. Under normal circumstances, she would have been able to wink herself out of danger, but it was a wizard that had punished her, which disabled her magic.

"What happened?"

Olivia's ears quirked. There was a long pause before she answered.

"Olivia fell down a laundry chute," she halfway lied.

"Really," said Snape, unsure if he believed her or not. How does one fall down a laundry chute?

About that time, Pomfrey returned.

"Okay, Severus, roll up your sleeve and hold out your hand."

First, Poppy applied the alpine burn paste. It wasn't as concentrated as the paste Snape used, but it smelled better. She rubbed the green ointment lightly over the damaged areas. The age-kind Matron had the benefit of experience and knew precisely how to massage and when to stop. When she was finished, she waved her wand over his hand and whispered a Celtic spell. The wizard's hand began to tingle and within a few short minutes, the blisters were gone.

Severus examined his hand closely. There were only a few red blotches left.

"Remarkable … thank you," he said sincerely.

"You're most welcome," she replied.

Severus adjusted his cuff and glanced at Olivia.

"Will she be okay?" he asked in a hushed voice.

"Oh, yes. She is fine. From what I understand, she took a tumble this morning. The bandages make it look worse than it actual is. I was about to discharge her when you walked inside."

Snape stood stiffly and cleared his throat.

"I will escort her to … wherever she sleeps." He said firmly.

Poppy looked as if she had seen a flying pig.

"You don't have to do that, Severus. I was going to - -"

"I'm sure you're quite busy. I will take care of it," the wizard interrupted.

The Matron smiled. She had no intention of arguing. Olivia needed to be escorted because she had suffered a head injury, but she was quite busy. The Professor's offer came at an opportune time.

"Thank you. I appreciate that. Olivia – you are free to go. Professor Snape will escort you to your quarters," she said.

Relieved, the elf shot out of bed. She landed on the soles of her feet with a thud.

"Thank you for your help, Miss Healer," said Olivia, wobbling a bit.

Apparently, the creature had a touch of vertigo.

"Ahem, yes … well, you're welcome. Just be more careful in the future."

Snape motioned towards the door, allowing Olivia the lead.

"Severus," said Poppy.

"Yes."

"About those dreams you've been having …"

"They're nothing – please forget what I said."

"Perhaps, I can help?"

Pomfrey assumed Severus was having nightmares about the night Voldemort tried to kill him. It wasn't uncommon for a traumatic experience to dwell in person's unconscious psyche.

"That won't be necessary. I have a sufficient supply of drought," he said pointedly.

Poppy opened her mouth to speak, but before she could object, Snape cut her off with a bow of gratitude.

"Thank you, again."

* * *

Hermione was curled up by the fire when Harry walked into the common room. He wasn't with Ginny or Ron, which was unusual. Her friend walked over and plopped down in the chair beside her. He looked dreadful.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, I'm just tired. We've been practicing all afternoon."

"Where's Gin?"

"I think she's with Luna."

"And Ron?"

Harry frowned and looked over.

"I haven't seen him. I thought he was with you."

Hermione shrugged.

"No. I haven't talked to him since yesterday," she said.

"Oh …"

Harry suddenly recalled seeing Ron with Lavender in the courtyard before dinner. Of course, he didn't dare tell Hermione that. It might ruin her mood. Besides, it was innocent. Ron said so.

"Hermione, may I ask you a personal question?"

"Yeah, sure"

"You know Ron is crazy about you, don't you?"

"Yes, I suppose."

"You suppose?"

"I mean, yes." Hermione corrected.

Harry thought carefully.

"Do you feel the same way about him?" he pried.

"You know I do," she uncomfortably replied.

Hermione cared deeply for Ron, but her feelings were changing – apparently, on the outside too. It was difficult to admit, but whatever romantic infatuation she once felt was fading. Maybe she got carried away in the war and the thought of never seeing him again. Maybe she acted too impulsively when made his feelings known. Maybe she truly felt something and then that _something_ just went away or maybe, she was just being hormonal. She wasn't sure.

"Do you really?" Harry pressed.

"I don't understand."

Harry thought carefully. His goal wasn't to put his friend on the spot. He just wanted to clear the air. Hermione and Ron were his closest friends and he didn't want there to be any bad blood between them. As it stood, they weren't on the best of terms as of late. Something about this term was different. They all assumed it was because they had grown up very quickly in a very short time.

"It's just that you've been ignoring him a lot lately and he misses you. I know he does."

Hermione shifted. Harry's confession was touching, but at the same time awkward. Maybe it was time she confessed how she felt. With any luck, he'd understand. Hermione tucked away the file she was reading and sat up.

"I'm know and I'm sorry. I realize that I've been a little distant …"

"Try iceberg," the wizard jokingly blurted before freezing with regret. "But I'm sure you have your reasons. Ron can be a little thick sometimes," he admitted.

"Pigheaded, is more like it …" she snorted. "Honestly, I don't mean to be standoffish. It's just … I've been –"

"Busy studying?" Harry promptly offered.

Fifty answers, all beginning with in the word 'no', flashed in Hermione's mind.

"Yes … studying, I've been busy studying," she lied, visibly deflated.

_That makes sense_, Harry thought, interpreting her reaction as relief. He couldn't wait to sit Ron down and tell him.

"I should have guessed."

Hermione leaned back and resumed reading. The heart-to-heart would have to wait until she could think of a way to tell her friend the truth. She had a lot riding on her relationship with Ron. Nearly everyone expected them to end up together. If she handled matters poorly, she could lose a lot more than a boyfriend.

"What are you reading?" Harry asked.

"Oh, um … it's nothing. Just something I picked up from the library."

Harry tried to sneak a peek.

"What is it?" he said playfully.

Hermione weaved away. This only made the wizard more curious.

"Nothing, I said."

"C'mon, let me see!"

When he reached out, the witch smacked his hand.

"Stop it," she scolded.

"Ouch!" he said, feigning pain. "Fine, be that way."

The wizard wasn't upset. He just wanted to make her feel guilty so she'd give him the papers. His plan didn't work. Holding her notebook firmly in place, Hermione continued. She made it a point to angle the pages so Harry couldn't see what she was reading.

"Hey!" she snapped.

Harry reached over and snatched the papers out of her hands. Hermione immediately launched herself out of the chair. Laughing to himself, the wizard batted down her attempts to steal it back.

"C'mon, Mione – let me read it," he teased.

"Give it back!"

"Let's see what's on Miss Granger's mind today."

"Give it back this instant!" Hermione said angrily.

After a moment, Harry's face changed.

"It doesn't look like homework," he said oddly.

The witch went into overdrive. She attacked Harry from every angle, but he was able to fend her off at every turn. After several swings, he discerned its contents. Once that happened, the wizard lost his focus and then the file. Hermione reclaimed it and rewarded his nosiness with a slap on the shoulder.

Appearing confounded, Harry looked around the room. Their housemates were staring, but it was mostly out of amusement.

"What are you doing with Snape's medical record?" he quietly asked.

"I didn't steal it, if that's what you're thinking." Hermione whispered back.

"How did you get it?"

"I came across it by accident. Remember when I had detention?"

"Um, yeah," Harry shrugged.

"It was in the stack of papers Snape wanted me to copy."

Harry glanced over his shoulder. No one was looking.

"Why then are you keeping it?"

"I was curious ..."

"Curious? If anyone finds out that you have his file, you could be in serious trouble! You know that personal records are completely confidential!"

"They won't find out," she said exasperatedly.

"Hermione, I'm your friend. I know you better than you know yourself and this isn't like you."

"No one will find out. Now, please drop it before someone hears you."

Harry paused for a moment.

"Return it," he said bluntly.

"What? No!"

"Why not?"

Hermione hesitated.

"Because I don't want too, that's why. I'm not finished reading it. There is so much in here, Harry. So much we didn't know or understand. Aren't you the least bit curious? For example, it talks about the day Snape was discovered alive in the dungeons … his diagnosis and …."

"Hermione ..." Harry growled. "I love you like a sister, but what you're doing is wrong. Dead wrong! Don't you have any respect for the man's privacy? This is all about feeding your curiosity and that's … so ... so … Slytherin!" He blurted.

The wizard couldn't think of anything more insulting. Hermione narrowed her eyes heatedly.

"You have no right to judge me after that stunt you pulled during match!" she snarled.

Neither of them realized it, but they were beginning to attract attention.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. You're right. I just don't get it!"

"Now you know how I felt when I saw you knock Millicent off her broom," the witch shot back.

Hermione was in full defense mode, but bringing up Gryffindor's loss and Harry's behavior was a low blow. If nothing else, it stung the wizard's pride. He felt badly enough. He didn't need to be reminded. Harry stood up.

"Okay, fine. You win. I don't want to fight ... do whatever you want. I'm going to take a shower. _Happy _reading," he grumbled.

Potter brushed past several housemates, all of whom were staring. No one said anything as the disgruntled wizard made his way up the staircase.

"What was that all about?" Seamus asked.

Had the row taken place between Hermione and Ron, no one would have batted an eyelash, but it was unusual for Harry and Hermione to disagree so openly.

Hermione took an uneasy glance around the room.

"Nothing," she replied.

Seamus shook his head.

"Sure was a noticeable nothing," he joked.

* * *

Snape followed Olivia into the laundry room. In all his years at Hogwarts, this was his first visit to the infamous, elf-run facility. He was amazed by the enormity of the room and its inhabitants. By his count, there were at least a hundred busy workers walking around.

_Where do they all hide?_ He wondered as he passed five elves carrying stacks of folded up laundry.

There were six enormous cauldrons that formed a circle in the center of the room. Each pot had its own attendant. The wash elf's job was to stir the soapy mixture with a huge wooden staff. Every so often, the elf would sprinkle in a special stain solution to remove any discoloration. After the wash cycle was complete, the cauldron was drained and its contents dumped into a drying bin. The drying bin was a giant jar-like container that dried the material inside a magical whirlwind. The walls were lined with tables for folding, ironing, and receiving. There were four laundry chutes, one for each house. Each canal fed into color-coded cart. Once the cart was full, an elf would roll the fabrics away for processing.

"Where are your quarters?" asked Snape, intrigued by the set up.

"Oh, um … Olivia sleeps below," the elf replied, motioning ahead.

Severus followed Olivia through a sea of workers and several boiling cauldrons. Incidentally, the pots were emitting clouds of steam. This made the room very humid, but unlike the fully clothed wizard, the house elves didn't seem to mind.

"Olivia! Olivia! You get over here right now!" Oz shouted from a short distance away.

The Head Elf couldn't see the Professor standing behind the cauldron, but Severus could see him. He stopped and peeked around the pot for a clearer view. He saw a graying elf with a very cross expression glaring from an overseer's position. Severus also noticed he was the only elf wearing a Hogwarts's jacket.

"I take it he's in charge," Snape said with a scowl.

Olivia lowered her ears and nodded.

"I see you over there. Come here, Olivia!" the crotchety old elf hollered.

Severus's frowned deepened when he observed how nervous Olivia appeared. He assumed that she was afraid of Oz, but she wasn't. In fact, she mouthed off to him daily, but therein laid the problem. She didn't want Snape to know that. It might taint his image of her.

"Olivia is coming," she begrudgingly answered.

"Professor, will you wait here?"

Snape was tempted to tell her no; to let him handle the old elf, but he knew wouldn't be right to meddle in their relationship. Oz was her boss.

"Very well," he said snappily.

Olivia slowly approached Oz. The foreman stood on several boxes with his arms folded in an effort to appear more important as he glared over his charges.

"Yes, Oz?"

"Where have you been all night?"

"After Olivia finished her duties, she went to see the nurse."

"Why? There's nothin' wrong with you."

Olivia gestured towards her bandaged head.

"You've been laying down on the clock because you hurt your noggin?! You are the sorriest worker I've ever seen, Olivia. You take a tumble and you expect to have a whole night off!"

"Olivia is a good worker!"

Oz's eyes widened.

"Watch your tone or I will tell the Headmistress!"

Olivia shrank a little.

"But …"

"You are getting on my nerves with all your excuses," Oz said. "Tomorrow you will do the Slytherin shower rooms again. After that, you are on latrine duty!"

"But Olivia did the shower rooms today. It's somebody else's turn," she griped.

The elf was very concerned about running into the Slytherin wizard, Goyle, again.

"You will do it! Maybe tomorrow you won't get yourself thrown down a chute," he said smugly.

Severus's face shifted from annoyed to murderous. Someone threw Olivia down a laundry shaft? Snape shot around the cauldron, surprising both Olivia and Oz.

"What is he talking about Olivia?"

Oz hopped off the boxes and bowed.

"Oz is honored to have a Professor here."

The Head Elf was sucking up and Snape knew it.

"Stow it dwarf!" he hissed.

Oz obeyed, but the dwarf remark hurt.

"Olivia, answer my question. You told me that you slipped!"

Olivia's grayish-green cheeks colored and her big blue eyes glazed over with fear. She opened and closed her mouth several times before anything came out.

"Well …" Olivia stalled.

"What h-a-p-p-e-n-e-d?" Snape snarled.

The elf looked between her only wizard companion and her rancorous supervisor. Both were equally interested in hearing what she had to say. Colby, an elf washer, leaned over his cauldron and watched. He figured Olivia was just protecting some undeserving human. Colby, having never served a household, wasn't all that fond of humans and decided to help her out.

"Olivia was attacked by a wizard!" he said.

Everyone looked up at the same time. The remark earned Colby a harsh glance from Oz. How dare he tell on a wizard!

"Who?!" Snape angrily demanded.

Colby shrugged.

"Colby doesn't know, sir. You have to ask, Olivia."

Snape looked down.

"Who," he said again.

"Olivia can't tell you that, Professor. She made a promise."

"Well, I am un-making it! Now tell me which one of my Slytherins threw you down the chute!"

Olivia shook her head no.

"Tell me," he hissed.

Again, Olivia shook her head no. She was too afraid that Goyle would do as he threatened to do and drown her in the Black Lake. Snape looked at Oz.

"Until I get to the bottom of this, she will work someplace else. Is that understood?"

"There's nowhere else to put her, sir. There are no other positions available," Oz happily denied. "Not only that, but Olivia was assigned to Slytherin by the Headmistress."

The wizard thought for a moment. This really wasn't his arena. All he knew was that he didn't want Olivia returning to Slytherin House just yet.

"She can have Colby's spot," the washer cheerfully offered. "Colby can work in Slytherin."

Once again, everyone looked up. His kindness earned him a warm smile from Olivia and a thank you nod from Snape. It had the opposite effect on Oz.

"You are a washer, Colby. You know nothing about House service!" the foreman said.

"Nonsense – as Head of Slytherin, if it can be done – do it," said Snape.

Oz's eyes objected, but his mouth complied.

"Very well … Colby, you can take Slytherin House for now," he sighed.

Satisfied, Snape spun away.

"Olivia, let us continue to your quarters. I must leave soon," he motioned, leaving the Head Elf to look after him as he billowed off.

Oz shot Colby a nasty look.

"Get back to work!" he scolded.

* * *

Snape and Olivia made their way down to the lodgings beneath the washroom. They soon came upon a long corridor that was hot, humid, and dimly lit with several doors in close proximity to each other. Apparently, the rooms weren't very large.

As they walked, Snape considered what Colby said. Olivia was attacked by one of his charges.

_What could have happened?_ He wondered. _It doesn't matter. I won't stand for it!_

Deep down, he knew that if it were any other elf he'd forgo the matter completely but then, if it were anyone else … he wouldn't be creeping down an elf walkway.

There were only two dormitories for elves at Hogwarts. The other was located beneath the kitchen near Hufflepuff. Rumor had it that the kitchen elves were better off than the laundry elves; that their accommodations were much nicer. Of course, the gossip was completely untrue. Their lifestyles were just different. Elves that cooked weren't subject to the same grittiness as laundry elves.

Olivia guided the Professor to a narrow wooden door.

"Here we are," she announced.

She opened the door with a wave of her hand and welcomed the Professor into her humble abode.

"Please come inside," she said.

Snape looked around. Her bedroom was no bigger than a broom closet. It contained an elf-size bed, nightstand, oil lamp, and a single rack for clothing. Incidentally, all house elves wore gray tupa's; a short garment that closely resembled the Roman slave fashion. Unlike other elves, Hogwarts's elves had to change their garments daily.

Snape frowned slightly.

"No, thank you." he gently declined.

It wasn't that Severus objected to modest living, there was just no place for him to sit and he didn't want to impose.

"Olivia thanks you for seeing her to her room, Professor."

His presence made her feel special.

"Of course …" he said awkwardly.

The pair shared a moment of silence. Neither of them had very much to say.

"You should get some rest," the wizard suggested.

"Okay, Olivia will do that. Good night, Professor." she smiled.

Just as the door was about to close, Snape placed his hand on the panel.

"And Olivia …"

The small creature peeked around the wooden frame.

"Sir?"

"I will deal with what happened. You will _not_ be mistreated again."


	19. Quickies

Adrianna faked a moan as her boy toy unskillfully ransacked her core. Sprawled across her desk, the witch's sexy legs hung loosely in the air, bouncing lazily as he violently jerked her body back and forth. Grunting, he buried his head into her shoulder, savoring the smell of her lightly scented skin. It wasn't every day he had the chance to plow the beauty.

_I wish he'd hurry up and finish _– she thought, looking up at the clock.

The witch groaned a phrase of encouragement, hoping to drive her partner to climax.

"I'm almost …" he breathed. "Almost there …"

It was then that Adrianna noticed something on her shoe.

_Is that gum?_ She frowned.

*Minutes later*

The wizard slammed himself to the hilt and let out a stupendous howl. One might have thought he was a werewolf if it wasn't for the intense sunlight pouring through the windows. Thankfully, the Professor remembered to put up a silencing charm.

It took a moment, but when he finally regained his senses, he looked down at his simpering Spanish rose with a full heart.

"That was …" he tenderly began.

"That was business," said Torres, cutting him off. "It's getting late, Mister Goyle – please withdraw."

Gregory's afterglow was shattered. She always did that to him. She allowed him to come then made him go.

"Can't we just …" he said, fumbling for the right words.

"Just what? We're finished here. You don't want to be late for breakfast, do you?" the witch replied.

Gregory peered into her sultry eyes pleadingly, but she was resolute. Their trade was complete. She had her information and he had his share of the goods. Adrianna let out a small hiss when Gregory yanked out his large deflated tool and tucked it back into his shorts. He didn't know it, but that sort of roughness turned her on. Afterward, he reached for his lagging pants and refastened his trousers. He adored and despised the woman. She was so hot, yet so cold.

_Witches …_ he thought.

Adrianna seemed unaffected by her lover's agitation. He was young and young men were easily offended. She primly adjusted her knickers, slid off the desk, and straightened her robes.

"When will I see you again," he boyishly asked.

"When you have more information for me – as I said before, it would be unwise to meet every day. People might become suspicious," the witch explained. "Now, be a good lad and run along. I have things to do."

With that, Gregory turned and left. Adrianna waited until the wizard was long gone before warding the door. Once it was safe, she reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a gold compact mirror.

"Lady Karkaroff," she said, gazing into her own reflection.

The smooth surface began to ripple. Seconds later, the image of a stern woman appeared.

"Hello, Adrianna. What news do you have?"

Rosa Karkaroff, sister of Igor Karkaroff, waited anxiously for a response.

"Success," Adrianna proudly informed.

"Well done. Is it working? Can you tell?"

"It's starting, but progress is slow."

"These things take time, my dear."

"Yes, of course."

"And Professor Snape? How are things developing with him?" Karkaroff asked.

"Not well," Adrianna sneered. "We're moving rather slowly too."

"Really? I find that surprising."

"I'm beginning to think that he's _sly_! No one informed me that he might be."

Rosa resisted the urge to snort. When Igor was alive, he defended Snape's orientation; saying that he wasn't gay, merely hopeless. He claimed that Severus had given up on finding a witch, preferring to concentrate on his career instead, but what nobody realized was that Snape kept his sexual affairs private. The idea that a beautiful witch like Adrianna was having difficulty getting close to him was a tribute to his emotional stamina. Perhaps, she underestimated him.

"You must try harder, but remember that the goal is to tantalize him. Keep him occupied and distracted. Don't make him suspicious! Someone once said that he was a suspicious man by nature so you mustn't move too quickly."

"Believe me, I am trying."

"Of course … however, I am concerned about you," said Rosa, noticing her untidy state. "You look a bit flustered. Are you feeling well?"

Suddenly, the image of Goyle banging her against the wall and atop the desk entered Adrianna's mind. He was becoming greedier and needier with each encounter. He even admitted to pleasuring himself in the mornings while thinking of her.

"It's my informant. He's been hounding me to death," she callously replied.

Lady Karkaroff frowned.

_Don't you mean fucking you to death?_ she thought, but didn't say.

"He's just young and eager." Torres lightly confessed.

"Are you referring to the young man from Slytherin? The one you mentioned in your last report?"

"Yes."

Lady Karkaroff's face became terrible.

"He is a student and a boy! What foreseeable use could you have for him?"

"By all rights, Gregory is a man and an important ally. He is my eyes and ears at this school," the witch defended. "It's just …"

"He is a dangerous liaison!" Rosa interrupted. "The Goyle's are famously thick-headed!"

Adrianna didn't rebuke that charge. Gregory was rather dim.

"More importantly, he could ruin everything if you're caught."

"He … we won't, my lady."

Rosa covered her eyes. She couldn't police Adrianna's every move, but she hated that her dead brother's plaything was so reckless. The witch was a notorious slut in the aristocratic circles back home, but thankfully, her exploits had not reached Scotland. She had no perquisites other than she preferred men of means. However, Gregory Goyle was proof that even that small standard was eligible for sacrifice.

"Did you at least secure his silence?" she said, throwing her hand up.

"He doesn't know anything; at least, nothing of consequence."

"Is he …" she said uncomfortably.

"In _love_?" Adrianna coldly finished. "I should hope not."

"Well, do be discreet. I needn't remind you that if you're discovered …"

"My Lady, please. I am a professional," she declared.

Lady Karkaroff remained thin lipped and disgusted.

"Hm yes, a _professional_…" she mocked. "Please try to save something for Snape, will you?"

"As if he'd know what to do with it," Adrianna intoned.

"Dear, I must go. Please contact me if you need anything."

Torres inclined her head ever so slightly.

"Yes, my lady."

Rosa's image faded and the glass returned to normal. Adrianna threw the compact back into the desk and reached for her wand. She quickly cleansed herself before turning to leave.

"Another day, another fuck," she mumbled.

* * *

The Slytherin table was quieter than usual that morning. Many of its occupants exchanged heated glances between each other as they mulled over their food. The Slytherin body was pissed off and it showed. Severus observed his charges with a cold, unforgiving scowl while secretly daring someone to glance his way.

"Severus, something seems to be troubling your students," Minerva noticed.

"It is an in-house matter, Headmistress. You needn't be concerned," Snape softly informed.

McGonagall shot her employee a speculative look. She was curious to know what he meant, but didn't want to ask anything more in front of the other teachers. Severus maintained a watchful eye on the lot as he picked over his breakfast and his thoughts.

* * *

After leaving Olivia, the Potions Master paid Slytherin House a visit. He had the Prefects round up all the students for a meeting; even the ones who hadn't made it back from supper yet. The officers tried to explain that everyone was scattered around the school, but Snape wouldn't hear it.

"Do as I say," he ordered.

The Prefects did as they were told. Severus waited while his charges slowly filled the elaborately decorated common room. His students avoided his gaze as they entered. They didn't care that he was there – just that he had disrupted their evening. Once everyone was present, the Professor leaped into interrogation mode.

"Which one of you threw the laundry elf, Olivia, down the chute this morning?" he said bluntly.

Snape was met with a sea of blank faces, many of whom were glaring back at him confusingly. Rufus Hockley was among the first to respond.

"Someone threw an elf down the laundry chute?" he asked dimly.

Snape shot the jock a dull look.

_Isn't that what I just said?_

"Yes. And that someone was a wizard."

"Figures," Parkinson put forth.

Pansy managed to draw a few snickers before Snape stepped forward.

"It is NO laughing matter," he growled, effectively silencing the witch and the room.

Goyle discreetly withdrew into a dark corner and studied his housemates. Everyone appeared genuinely baffled, but mildly amused. The boys who were there, Franklin, Marcy, and Peters held their tongues. They had no desire to rat on their housemate, especially to their diminished Head of House. No else had a clue that it was Goyle who had thrown the spying cretin down the shaft.

Malfoy, who was lounging on the couch, looked insipidly around the crowded common room. It wasn't hard to see that he was already bored.

"Which one of you did it?!" Snape snarled.

No one answered.

"No one knows? Is that the consensus?"

"Honestly sir, we have no idea what you're talking about, but even if we did, who cares? It was just an elf." Shuler put forth.

The students nodded in agreement, until Snape's coldness found them.

"Be that as it may, she is an employee of Hogwarts. To attack a staff member is grounds for immediate _expulsion_."

A series of worried faces ballooned.

_He can't do that,_ they all thought.

Franklin, Marcy, and Peters looked at Goyle expectantly.

_Say something, _their eyes pleaded.

"Honestly, Professor we don't know!" Rufus and the others spat.

Severus stood erect. He was neither convinced nor moved. He studied their concerned faces for several long moments while he considered his next action carefully. Everyone waited on pins and needles for their Head of House to speak. No one wanted to go home. With everything going on outside, Hogwarts was a safe haven for the sons and daughters of Death Eaters and sympathizers. Even Draco had the decency to appear disturbed by the prospect of being expelled.

"Very well," Snape conceded. "Until I discover which one of you attacked Olivia, all off-campus activities are hereby suspended for the _whole _of Slytherin House."

The entire room broke into a mountainous groan.

"That's not fair!" Pansy exclaimed.

"Your shallow understanding of fairness is not my concern, Miss Parkinson. Life isn't fair. Get use to it," he informed.

"Wait, he can't punish all of us!" Shuler protested. "We'll just go to the Headmistress."

"Yeah, we'll report you!" Pansy and the others chimed.

Snape's dark eyes glinted.

"Feel free," he said. "Do you honestly believe she will override my decision once she discovers what happened?"

The room fell silent. Snape was right. McGonagall would never take their side.

"You're all dismissed. I am finished here," he said, swiftly turning towards the exit.

_Let the culprit's housemates take care of him …_ he thought.

"But Professor!" one student cried.

Snorting, Severus ignored the anonymous plea and stalked out of the common room. He wouldn't hear it. They could either confess or rot but no matter what, he would not allow them to run amuck. It was a new day in Slytherin House.

* * *

Snape snapped too when Professor Torres entered the Great Hall wearing a busty, form fitting red robe under her black overlay. She smiled suggestively when she noticed him noticing her sashaying down the aisle. Goyle, who was eyeing the witch intently, looked murderous. He was angry that she hadn't acknowledged him. Usually, Adrianna winked or smiled in his direction. Winking was code for 'hugs and kisses'.

Incidentally, Goyle didn't notice her making eye contact with his Head of House; no one did.

Severus dropped his eyes. He wasn't the sort of man who'd ever go goo-goo over a witch, even if that witch was clearly dangling sex in front of him. Still, if felt as if she was toying with him. What did she want? She already said 'in no certain terms' that she was interested in a physical relationship, but why him? Although Severus understood that love was off the menu, the last thing he needed was to start obsessing over a colleague's thatch. Dear Lord, of all the women Minerva could have hired, why her?

Professors McGonagall, Sprout, and Trelawney watched with some degree of ridicule as the sexy DADA instructor made her way towards the High Table. She walked with a smooth hip-to-hip swing that caught the eye of every wizard she passed. Hagrid, Sweetie, and Flitwick were the exceptions of course. They were too engrossed in conversation to notice the witch sit down. Not that she was their type anyway.

"Does she always have to enter a room like the Queen of Sheba?" Trelawney whispered, drawing a few nods.

Without even looking back, Ginny punched Harry in the arm. He, like Ron, was trying to steal a glance of the witch's backside as she strolled pass.

"Ouch," Harry laughed. "What was that for?"

Ginny continued reading the newspaper. She didn't have to explain. Harry knew what he did wrong.

Hermione didn't notice Ron noticing Torres. She was far too absorbed in the latest edition of the Daily Prophet. The newspaper spotlighted a small update on Rita Skeeter's disappearance.

"Listen to this everyone …" said Hermione.

"_Rita Skeeter, a journalist for the Daily Prophet, was found yesterday wondering the village streets of Cedar Creek. The dirty, dazed, and mumbling witch responded to Aurors and onlookers with childlike appreciation, but she had no memory of her whereabouts for the past few weeks. She was immediately transported to St. Mungos where she is currently undergoing psychiatric evaluation …"_

"Yeah, so." Ron shrugged. "What goes around comes around. Maybe she crossed the wrong person this time."

Harry and Gin agreed.

"But who would attack a sleazy journalist and why? Everyone knows that she twists the truth to sell stories. She doesn't have any credit among decent witches and wizards."

Several mute expressions rose up to meet the witch. It seemed no one cared that Rita Skeeters's cheese had temporarily slipped its cracker. She was to blame for a lot of misery and she got what was coming as far as they were concerned.

"Never mind," Hermione finally said, letting the matter go.

Smiling, she glanced back and noticed Torres sitting beside Professor Snape. She didn't like what she saw, but she liked it even less when Torres leaned over and whispered something into his ear. If she didn't know better, she could've sworn she saw the wizard blush.

Hermione let out an audible snort.

Gin, Harry, and Ron glanced back.

"What?" they said.

"Professor Torres just whispered something in Professor Snape's ear. Now he's blushing," she answered.

Harry narrowed his eyes for a clearer view. He was immediately stunned by what he saw.

"Yeah, you're right."

"I bet he's getting wood. He's probably never been that close to a beautiful woman," Ron snickered.

He respected Snape as a hero but still disliked the man as a person. Harry and Ginny's face drew up. The image of Snape getting a hard-on was not a pleasant thought. Did the man even have sex? Something indescribable pulsed through Hermione when she saw Torres gently brush the Professor's hair aside to whisper something else. Snape looked more uncomfortable than ever, but for some reason, he tolerated it. When Harry turned back, he noticed Hermione frowning.

"Hermione," he said curiously.

"Yes?"

"Is something wrong?"

Hermione suddenly realized that she was glaring rather harshly.

"Um, no … I was just thinking," she replied, folding her newspaper.

Ginny smiled.

"Mm, let me guess … does it concern a certain Spanish teacher that parades her wares like she's up for auction? Two sickles going once … going twice … gone to the gentleman whacking off in the front row," she said in a mock-male voice.

Hermione laughed. Harry too, but mostly because Hermione was laughing. In recent weeks, Ginny had developed a strong dislike for Professor Torres, much the same way the wizards once disliked Gilderoy Lockhart. Ron was the only one not amused. He was rather fond of her.

"She can't help that she's pretty," he grumbled, stealing a wayward glance at his old girlfriend sitting at the end of the table.

Lavender shared a private smile.

The comment didn't register with Hermione. She was too absorbed in the Professor's conversation. Torres was flirting openly with Snape and though she would have never imagined it possible, Snape appeared to be enjoying himself – albeit discreetly.

* * *

"What about tonight?" Adrianna asked.

Snape swallowed.

"Ahem, tonight?" he repeated, surveying the table.

"My quarters, say ... 9:30?"

Outwardly, Severus was as calm, but inwardly his stomach was in knots. His instincts were firing red flags in every direction. Unlike some men, Snape never had a woman ask to be with him. They couldn't seem to get over him being a troll, amongst other things. There had to be a reason. He clung to the hope that it was some sort of twisted hero worship, but even that idea seemed unlikely. Time would tell if the world would ultimately forgive his past, but one thing was certain, he would always be a Death Eater to many. Maybe that is what the witch craved – a Death Eater as a lover? If so, at least some gain would come of the image.

"9:30," he stiffly replied.

"I look forward to it," she said rising. "Good day, Professor."

"Good day," said Severus with a faint, but sincere smile.

Adrianna strolled away from the High Table with a victorious grin. She could hardly wait to start seducing the wizard. Within a week, she planned to have him begging; then and only then could she lead the lamb to the slaughter.

* * *

**A/C:** Thanks for reading!

**12/2012 Update:** I am still working to correct my mistakes and clean up the storyline. I'm surprised so many folks followed this story as long as they did.


	20. Potions 101

Hermione left breakfast around the same time as Snape. Harry noticed her departure, but didn't say anything. Ron and the others were too involved in other things to detect anything amiss. Not that Ron said much anymore. He was getting used to her not being around.

Hermione followed the wizard until they were both out of range of the Great Hall.

"Professor," she called.

Snape didn't hear Hermione. He was too busy going over the complexities of Adrianna's offer. The prospect of getting to 'know' the witch was appealing, but there were many things about her he didn't know that he should know – such as her motive. Moreover, he didn't particularly like the idea of becoming intimately involved with a colleague. If things went south, which was the norm in arrangements such as these, problems would arise. For that reason and others, romance was out of the question. Whatever she was after, he hoped it wasn't love. She'd find herself short a buck and he a doe.

"Sir," Hermione called again.

Snape entered the dungeons, seemingly unaware of the Gryffindor following him.

"Is he ignoring me?" she intoned.

Severus wouldn't be so inclined to consider Adrianna's proposal if he wasn't quite literally, starved for human contact. Not love, companionship or even, friendship – just old-fashioned contact. He hadn't fucked in ages. More to the point, he was too famous and too old to pursue drunken barmaids as he did in his youth. The part of his brain that regulated his male instincts, the same part that lay dormant for so long, was awake and a bit randy. He wasn't sure why, but he suspected it had something do with his obligation to Lily being met. Severus felt free, not absolved – just free. He would never live happily-ever-after, but he could partake in a few simple pleasures.

"Professor!"

Hermione's voice echoed off the walls, snagging the Potions Master's attention at last. The wizard stopped and turned back. He was surprised to find Granger making her way down the dungeon stairwell. Snape waited for her to catch up before he answered.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"How is your hand, sir?" she asked tiredly.

Snape cut his eyes towards the lower classmen circling around them and suddenly wished he had taken the rear entrance. He couldn't fathom a reason why the Gryffindor was inquiring after his injury, but he was confident that it had little to do with his well-being. Suspicion came natural to Severus – gratitude to students and Gryffindors did not.

"It is fine. Thank you," he said amidst a turn.

"Are you sure? I mean … you appeared a bit flushed at breakfast. I thought maybe it was bothering you," Hermione pried.

Snape spun back.

"Flushed?" he dimly repeated.

A few seconds passed before he caught onto the witch's meaning.

_Oh, good Merlin …_

"I don't know what you're talking about Miss Granger, but I assure you, Madam Pomfrey is a skilled Healer," he snapped, embarrassed by his lapse in decorum.

Hermione chewed her lip. She wasn't sure what to say next.

"Well, I'm sure Neville will be relieved to hear that."

Snape arched his brow.

"I could care less how that sponge Bob feels," he sardonically replied.

Hermione's face twisted.

"Sponge Bob?"

Inwardly, the Professor cringed. His age was showing. The term 'sponge Bob' meant lazy or incompetent, but it was an old expression. The last time Severus used it, he was carrying school books.

"Never mind," he waved. "The point is that I'm fine. Was there anything else?"

"No, sir … I was just - -"

"Good. If you'll excuse me," Snape said continuing.

The Professor resumed his course, leaving Granger to dawdle on the stairwell alone.

"Good day," she said.

* * *

Bemused, the witch exited the dungeons and headed straight to Transfiguration. It was still very early, but better early than late. As she walked, she studied Snape's reaction to Professor Torres in her mind. Although the logical centers of her brain contested the pettiness of her objection, she felt that the wizard was making a terrible mistake. But then, what mistake was he making? Were they involved or just flirting?

A year ago, the mere thought of Snape flirting with a woman would have turned Hermione's stomach, but nowadays, it simply turned her red. Maybe she was spending too much time with his medical file. Maybe she was reading too much into it and creating a noble, tortured man out of ink and paper. Maybe she had it all wrong.

Hermione barely knew the Professor. She was intimately familiar with the helpless wizard who fought to live after being found alive in his funeral chamber, but she didn't know the man he was outside of that. Hermione was aware that he protected Harry throughout his school career and that he'd served Dumbledore loyally for years, but still, she didn't know him. She wanted too – badly, and therein laid the real mystery. Why?

Ever since the war ended, Hermione felt detached from her old life. She'd spent the previous year searching for horcruxes, sleeping in a tent, and eating whenever there was time. Hermione grew away from many things, including her former dreams of a career and family. Although she clung tightly to the duties of yesteryear, her needs and wants felt less like goals and more like expectations. Snape was her coping mechanism. Hermione desperately needed to feel connected with something now that the glorious victory over Tom Riddle was fading. The euphoria was finally wearing off and the daunting task of restructuring their lives was at hand. For Hermione, the job amounted to more than an admirable transcript. She needed a purpose, an ambition ... a reason.

Harry had Gin. They were already the 'it' couple and undoubtedly, they would go on to become the heroic duo after school, which was fine with her. Harry's dream of becoming an Auror was a done deal. He would have any job he wanted, now that the Dark Lord was vanquished. Ron too, once he helped his brother, George get back on his feet. In the meantime, he had Quidditch and his family; a family Hermione had come to regard as her own and feared losing if things between her and Ron didn't work out, but sadly, Ron and academics weren't enough. They were incapable of providing her with what she needed most. To his credit, Ronald tried but aside from their friendship, they had little in common. Then there was the issue of Hermione's parents. She loved them dearly, but they too were incapable of understanding her as a witch. They would never 'get' her or the things she and her friends went through during those dark times or the dangers that still existed, even though the war was over.

In effect, Hermione Granger was searching for a kindred spirit. It was as if she was stranded at sea, waiting for a ship to come and rescue her. Should she accept her old life and give up this silly quest of interest? Should she flag and re-board the cruiser that was now sailing away? Or should she linger on the life raft and wait for a future that may never come?

_He's an enigma, that's all. A good old-fashioned mystery – all women like mysteries. Once they're solved, they lose their appeal. _Hermione reasoned.

Hermione cut thru the go-between corridor that linked Transfiguration and the second floor. She immediately stopped when she spotted Malfoy and Professor Torres talking. Fortunately, they didn't see her enter. Hermione dipped into a nearby niche and listened.

"How are your lessons coming, Mister Malfoy?"

"Fine," the wizard replied. "Professor Sweetie seems to know what he's doing."

"Does he? Have you learned anything useful?" Torres pried.

Draco felt like sneering, but didn't. Much like his father, he found pushy witches a turn off. More importantly, who was she to question him? By all accounts, Adrianna Torres was a glorified prostitute; only she didn't get paid to have sex. It came with the job.

"Yes, but I'm still practicing." He said uncomfortably.

"That's good news."

Draco smiled through his annoyance.

"And how are things developing with you?" he shot back.

"Wonderfully, thank you. In fact, I have a date with your Head of House tonight."

Draco looked as if he was going to vomit.

"Yeah okay, just keep the details to yourself."

"I'll try to remember to put up a silencing charm," she softly teased.

"What time, so I can do it for you?" the wizard replied.

"9:30."

Draco made another disgusted face. It was difficult to imagine Snape as a sexual being. To think, Torres was going to spread her legs for that ugly bat. The good news was that he'd probably come fast. It wasn't as if he shagged much, if ever. Suddenly, the image of Snape's big nose dripping sweat over her naked body as he mechanically worked her pussy made the young man woozy.

"I should go," Malfoy said. "I have an appointment."

"Yes, be a good lad and run along," the witch said playfully.

Draco was not amused. The Spanish beauty did nothing for him. Maybe that was because he was aware of her colorful history.

"Oh and Draco," Torres said.

"Yeah," he replied, turning back.

"I will see if I can't have Professor Snape lift Slytherin's punishment for you," she said, hoping to gain a few brownie points with the young aristocrat.

"Just stick to what we agreed. I don't need any special favors from you," Malfoy shot back.

Draco resumed his course, but after a few short steps, stopped. With a baffled expression, he slowly turned back around.

"How did you know about that?"

Adrianna recalled Goyle's heated rant that morning. It was the reason he came to see her. He needed to vent. She wound up resolving the issue on her knees. He took his time too, dishing out every dirty detail as he repeatedly filled her mouth with every stroke. And fill he finally did. At first, she was furious, but she quickly resigned herself to the task of milking his member dry. It amazed her how much satisfaction it brought men whenever she swallowed.

"Professor Snape told me," Torres lied.

The blonde wizard looked disenchanted. After the betrayal that led to his father's incarnation and social ruin, Draco felt nothing but sheer bitterness towards Snape. He was a fifthly traitor and a half-blood who deserved his due, but in all his years at Hogwarts, he never took the wizard for a blab. What happened in Slytherin, stayed in Slytherin or so he thought.

"I see."

Draco turned and bolted down the corridor, leaving Professor Torres to look after him amusingly. Smiling, she headed in the opposite direction.

Hermione heard the witch approaching and quickly cast a disillusioning charm on herself. If she glanced her way, she'd see the shimmer, but with any luck, she wouldn't look. The Gryffindor held her breath until Torres had passed. She listened carefully to the instructor's footsteps as they faded down the corridor.

Once it was safe, Hermione lifted the charm and slipped out of the crevice.

_Torres plans to sleep with Snape? Does he know? Of course, he knows! That explains why he was blushing this morning. But … what does that have to do with Draco? Something is going on! I can feel it. I have to warn the Professor, but how? He getting a little tired of me showing up! I don't have any proof and there aren't any rules against teachers fraternizing with each other … are there? _

Hermione hurried to Transfiguration. Thankfully, Professor Sweetie was there, but then, so was Malfoy.

"Good morning, Miss Granger," Sweetie said merrily. "You're here awfully early."

"Yes, sir … I was hoping to speak with you … privately, that is." said Hermione.

"I'd love to chat, but …" Nicholas paused. "I have an appointment with Mister Malfoy this morning."

"After class, then?" she countered.

"I am meeting with the Headmistress after class. However, if it's urgent, I can cancel."

Hermione thought carefully. It was important, but she wasn't sure if her Head of House would see it that way. She had no proof. In fact, she had nothing, but a peculiar meeting.

"No, sir … that won't be necessary. It can wait," Hermione relented.

"I'm free tonight if you'd like to talk," said Sweetie.

Thinking, Hermione looked away. Her hesitation signaled to the old wizard.

"Um, I'm sorry Granger, but Malfoy and I had an appointment and …"

"Say no more," she blushed. "I'll come back later."

"Thank you," he smiled.

Hermione exited Transfiguration with a cumbersome look.

_That could have gone better, _she thought.

Hermione walked as far as the end of the corridor. There was no need to stray. Classes would begin soon. Hermione was sorely tempted to stand outside Sweetie's door and listen to their meeting, but she feared getting caught. Besides, he probably had the door warded with a silencing charm.

Hermione sank to the floor and waited. She had a lot to think about and not much time to think. Firstly, she needed to alert Professor Sweetie to Malfoy. Was he actually giving the vile wizard tutoring lessons? Secondly, she needed to warn Professor Snape of Torres, but she couldn't do either until she had more evidence – just a shred of proof that something strange was afoot.

_Think, Hermione think …_

Hermione glanced down and stroked her books considerately. The golden light filtering into the corridor seemed to illuminate her Potions Book as if on purpose. This drew the witch deeper into thought.

Hermione closed her eyes and yawned. It was bodacious yawn, worthy of a nap. She rested her head against the wall and let her mind drift.

_I should do something,_ she thought lazily.

In that peaceful moment between sleep and consciousness, the answer came.

* * *

8:00

Adrian applied several scented lotions, fortify with lust potion, across her naked body. Afterwards, she slipped into her finest lounging robe and shoes, forgoing the knickers. It was a sure bet that Snape would appreciate the spontaneity of the gesture. All men, especially repressed Englishmen, desired bad girls. The witch hummed as she made the finally touches to her hair and makeup. She was going for simple, but elegant and refrained from adorning herself with too much of anything, including makeup. If the Professor had any skills at all – it wouldn't last the hour.

* * *

8:42

Hermione hurried down the staircase, darting passed several late comers on their way their house dormitories. She made it a point to keep her head down, hoping to avoid anyone she knew. If she ran into her friends, they'd probably want to know where she was going and she didn't have time to answer any questions.

Hermione managed to stay clear of friends as she made her way to the DADA corridor. She quickly surveyed the area and found it empty. Smiling, she removed a small blue satchel from her robes. On the front of the bag was huge, "W" and a warning that read: Use in Moderation.

The satchel was a gag gift from Ron's brothers George and Fred, but she never thought in a million years that she'd actually use it. Hermione reached inside the pouch and pulled out a wad of shimmering blue powder. She cast the dust into the air and allowed the sparkly blue cloud to dissolve around her.

_This better work,_ she thought.

* * *

8:46

*Bang! Bang! Bang!*

Adrianna was setting the mood with some candles when someone began to pound on the door. The sound startled her so much that she screamed.

*Bang! Bang! Bang!*

"Alright, alright - I'm coming!" she shouted.

Torres nearly tripped over her own feet trying to get to the door. When she got there, she swung it open to find a very distraught student on the other side.

"Miss Granger?" she said confoundedly.

"Oh, Professor … I'm sorry," Hermione dramatically began. "I didn't know where else to go!"

Torres made a show of looking down the corridor.

"And you thought it would be best to come here?"

"Well …" she sniffed. "You're a woman. And I need womanly advice."

"Surely, you have friends …"

"No! They wouldn't understand!" said Hermione, reaching for the witch.

Adrianna stepped back. Obviously, she was delirious. Not that she cared. She just didn't want a sobbing basket case hanging around her doorway. She had to get rid of the witch and fast.

"Miss Granger … I am expecting company. This really isn't a good time," she confessed.

Hermione pretended to look wounded.

"What?"

"This is a horrible time, really. Maybe we can do this tomorrow, perhaps over tea?"

It was time to up the ante. Hermione really turned on the waterworks. She began to whale so loudly that her head and hair bounced. She grabbed the door so she could prop herself up as she sobbed.

"Calm down, Miss Granger … calm down," said Torres.

She had no idea how to deal with an hysterical witch.

"May we please talk, just for a moment?" she blubbered.

Torres looked back at the clock. It was now ten till nine. Snape would be arriving in a short while.

"Ten minutes, Miss Granger. You have ten minutes," She said sternly, ushering the hysterical girl inside.

Hermione almost broke character when she entered the witch's domain. It was well decorated and smelled of perfume. It was also aglow with dozens of candles, which gave it a sultry feel. There were large pillows arranged in front of the hearth and a bottle of wine on the mantelpiece.

_Not bad …_ she thought before remembering herself.

Adrianna tapped her foot impatiently.

"Well, what is it? What's gotten you so upset? A boy, a teacher, a housemate … what?!"

"Professor, may I have a cup of tea?" she said somberly, secretly noticing the clock on the wall.

Adrianna resisted the urge to erupt. She couldn't risk breaking her lovely facade with an enraged countenance.

_This witch has to go! Of all the Professors at Hogwarts, why me_?

"Yes, of course," she said with a false smile.

Torres quickly disappeared. Moments later, she returned with a steamy cup of hot tea. Magic was a blessing.

"Here you go. I hope this helps," she said sweetly.

Hermione wiped her eyes and sniffed. She took a delicate sip and made a face.

"What's wrong?" Torres asked.

"It needs sugar," Hermione said embarrassingly.

The Professor's irritation showed, but she kindly went back for more sugar.

"Two lumps, please!"

Hermione reached into her pocket and pulled out a small vile. She quickly dumped a thimble of specially formulated draught into her cup. A few seconds later, Torres reemerged.

"Thank you," Hermione said, taking the sugar.

"Miss Granger, what is this about?"

The witch paused briefly.

"It's about sex," she blurted.

"Come again?" she said.

Hermione's eyes began to fill with tears again.

"I am having strong urges," she sobbed.

_Oh, dear Merlin … I don't have time for this!_

"Miss Granger, you needn't get all worked up about it. Sexual urges are the body's way of telling you it needs something," she lectured.

"But this person … this person isn't right for me," Hermione continued.

"Sweetheart, wizards are all the same. My advice to you is to except them as they are. Don't place any expectations on them and you'll never be disappointed."

"But …"

"Please, Miss Granger. I am expecting company, can't this wait until morning?"

Hermione pretended to consider the option as she tipped her cup. Before the liquid touched her lips, she made another disgusting face.

"What is it now?" Torres said impatiently.

"Are you sure you brought me sugar?" she frowned.

"Of course I'm sure!"

Hermione shook her head.

"Maybe you should check your stock, Professor. It tastes like salt!"

The witch scoffed.

"Here! Try it!" said Hermione, holding out the cup.

Torres accepted the cup and took a small sip.

"It tastes fine," she said handing the cup back.

Hermione pushed it away.

"You don't taste that?"

Adrianna took a second, larger sip.

"As I said, it tastes fine."

"I guess it's just me," Hermione shrugged.

*Clock Chiming*

Both women looked up. It was now 9:15.

"Miss Granger, I must insist that you return to your dormitory. I don't have any hall passes, but if you should run into any problems, I will vouch for you in the morning."

"Thank you for listening," Hermione said kindly.

"Yes, yes just go." Torres replied, ushering the Gryffindor towards the door.

Hermione took her sweet time, but finally left. The moment she was gone, Adrianna dumped out the tea and scourified the cup. She performed a quick sweep of her quarters and appearance before settling in front of the hearth.

_Professor Snape should be here any moment,_ she smiled.

* * *

Hermione hid down the hall. From there, she waited for Professor Snape to arrive. She would need to go to plan B, if plan A didn't work.

At precisely 9:30 p.m., the Potions Master entered the corridor. His dark façade commanded the attention of the corridor as he walked smoothly towards Adrianna's quarters. Hermione noticed that his face seemed softer, pleasant even. Was it possible that Professor Snape was happy? Of course, he was happy! He was there to sleep with a beautiful woman! Hermione mood shifted when she realized that whatever hope or happiness he felt was about to take a nosedive.

Standing perfectly erect, Snape knocked soundly on Adrianna's door.

No answer.

After a moment, he reached forward and knocked again.

No answer.

_Perhaps, she's in the loo. _He reasoned.

The wizard waited a several more minutes and knocked again.

No answer.

Hermione observed Snape's face shift from contentment, to concern, to annoyance. All of sudden, she felt sorry for him – he was being stood up.

9:45

Severus knocked one last time. When there was no answer, he placed his hands stiffly behind his back and thought to himself. He'd be damned if he was going to stand there all night and pound on her door. It seemed the witch had been toying with him after all. If not, she'd have a lot of explaining to do in the morning – that is, he even allowed her the opportunity. Snape took the disappointment of their missed engagement with dignity as he calmly proceeded back down the hall. He would not lose a wink of sleep over the missed encounter. It appeared his celibate streak was safely on course, albeit unintentionally.

Meanwhile …

Adrianna lay beautifully across a giant bed of pillows. Every so often she'd let out a snore, indicating that she was indeed alive.

* * *

**12/2012 Update:** I'm still revising chapters. It's taking me forever, but I'm slowly getting there :)


	21. Collisions

"On to the next order of business …" Minerva said.

Appearing every bit as bored as he felt, Snape listened to McGonagall go on and on about Ministry developments, Auror standings, and up-coming events; namely, the annual Halloween feast, which she proposed doing a little differently that year.

"Any ideas?" she asked.

Flitwick, Trelawney, and Firenze raised their hands at the same time. Sybill rolled her eyes at the handsome centaur. As usual, she suspected him of trying to outshine her. McGonagall spotted the spectacle and called on Firenze first.

"Yes, Firenze?"

"Perhaps, we could allow the children some time off from class. A long weekend maybe?" he kindly suggested. "Surely, that would lift their spirits."

Snape sat silently, but a few of the teachers nodded in agreement.

"While I'm sure that would put the students in a festive mood …" Minerva tactfully began. "It's not quite what I had in mind. Hogwarts must adhere to a strict class schedule. Unless approved by the Board of Governors, I cannot sanction a student-holiday."

"We could have a haunted castle," said Trelawney in a spooky voice.

Nearly everyone, including Snape, looked at the witch incredulously.

"Er … I'm sure tha ghosts will luv that," Hagrid joked.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sybill sneered.

Immediately, the half giant stopped smiling.

"Sybill, dear, I think what Rubeus means is that the castle is already haunted. More to the point, I was hoping for something livelier."

Firenze smiled triumphantly. As a rule, he detested pettiness, but the jealous hag had a way of getting underneath his skin.

"Any other ideas?" McGonagall asked.

The entire room burst forward. Everyone had an idea, but not every idea was good. Professor Binns recommended having a history 'sit in' so that everyone could learn the _true_ meaning of All Hallows Eve. Though the suggestion had merit, no one wanted the monotone ghost to turn the celebration into a lecture. Hagrid suggested a hayride, followed by a campfire regaling past Halloweens. Minerva considered the idea, but feared the weather wouldn't hold up. Scotland's autumns were bitterly cold. Sprout suggested having a Halloween brunch, instead of an evening feast, but almost no one bit that hook.

Severus had no interest in the discussion and occupied himself with thoughts of the day. He planned to spend the afternoon in the library reviewing donated materials. It wasn't uncommon for Hogwarts Alumni to donate their personal volumes to the school upon death or as an act of good will. However, the books had to be carefully inspected to ensure that no dark magic slipped passed their nets. Although it was a job for the DADA instructor, Severus naturally volunteered.

"Why don't we allow the 1st and 2nd years to decorate the hall," Hooch offered. "Maybe they could select the menu also?"

Professor Sprout frowned at this idea. She and Flitwick were in charge of overseeing the decorations and menu. She didn't want a bunch of first years mucking up the works.

"And stick me with the causalities? I think not." Poppy laughingly disagreed. "Why don't we invite the parents?"

"And stick us with entertaining them? You're the only one allowed to leave whenever you want, Poppy!" Hooch countered.

Snape glanced up at Albus's portrait. The wizard look-a-like was gazing down from his lofty position with a hint of humor and anticipation. It was easy to see that he had something to say, but no one would call on him and portraits could not participate in meetings unless asked.

Snape studied him, peevishly refusing to give Dumbledore what he wanted most – permission. After years of being under the Headmaster's thumb, it felt good to be the one in control, even if it was his likeness and not him. As he studied the canvas, Severus found that the magical artist did a superb job of capturing the annoying twinkle in his blue eyes and the ostentatious flare in his robes.

"Perhaps, we could have a masquerade?" Torres said over the bickering voices.

One by one, the room quieted down. Everyone but Snape was focused on the witch. Yes, he heard Adrianna speak, but he was more interested in the painting than her.

"What did you say, dear?" McGonagall asked.

"Perhaps, we could have a masquerade banquet? I'm sure the students would enjoy that. Maybe … throw in a little music and dancing?"

At first, no one said anything. Adrianna was prepared to defend her suggestion when Minerva smiled brightly.

"Ooh, that's a wonderful idea!" she clapped. "What do you all think?"

Hagrid, Flitwick and Firenze were the first to agree. Pomfrey, Vector, and the others soon followed. Trelawney and Snape were the only ones who didn't say anything.

"Very well, it's settled then. This year will mark Hogwarts's first Masquerade Banquet. Does anyone have anything else to add?"

Dumbledore folded his arms and huffed. Snape still refused to call on the old man. He was getting a real kick out of watching him squirm.

"Well, if no one has anything else to say, this meeting is adjourned. I do hope to see everyone at the Quidditch match later," the Headmistress said meaningfully.

Some of the teachers confirmed their attendance with a nod while the rest scattered to the four winds. Not everyone was eager to see Gryffindor kick the crap out of Hufflepuff. Snape was the last to exit. He purposely waited in order to torment Dumbledore's portrait a little longer.

"You could have called on me," the old wizard grumbled.

Severus paused at the door.

"Yes … I suppose," he admitted. "But what fun would that have been?"

Dumbledore frowned. He was on the verge of arguing when the Potions Master walked out. Severus left his former mentor mumbling heatedly in his wake.

There was no advantage to being dead and being partially preserved inside an interactive painting with no rights was even worse. No, he wasn't the great Albus Dumbledore, but he inherited a few of the Headmaster's memories and by that, some of his personality. It was only natural for him to feel connected to the school and its business.

Dumbledore glanced over and saw McGonagall putting on her gloves. Immediately, the twinkle in his eyes returned.

"Minerva …" he gently began.

* * *

Severus hurried down the stairwell. He wanted to stop by the Great Hall for a bite to eat before plunging into work. Fortunately, he didn't have any detentions scheduled that day, which meant he could devote his entire afternoon to research. Unlike his students, he didn't view study as a chore. It was an efficient way to spend his free time, a notion that he hoped to become reacquainted with as the weeks rolled on.

"Professor," a voice rang.

Snape recognized the woman's accent immediately. He stopped mid-travel, but did not turn around. Frankly, he didn't want to hear her excuses. He'd been avoiding Adrianna for days, hoping that she'd take the hint.

"Yes, Professor Torres. What is it?"

"May we talk?"

"About?" he replied.

His eyes were charred, but his tone was delicate and deceptive. The wizard was deeply offended. Had he more experience with the opposite sex, he may have been more forgiving, but Severus was very green; despite whatever meaningless rendezvous he may have experienced in years gone by. Naturally, his defenses were up.

"I am sorry about the other night," said Adrianna as she made her way down the stairwell. "I don't know what happened."

Snape turned back.

"You don't know? Allow me to refresh your memory. I was invited to your quarters for a _pleasurable_ evening, but when I arrived, you weren't there. Did I miss anything?"

"No, no - that's not it all. I was there. I had fallen asleep!"

The wizard's trademark coolness morphed into a ludicrous grin. Did she really think that telling him she had fallen asleep would help? If anything, he felt more insulted.

"Asleep," he nodded.

Adrianna quickly realized her mistake

"You don't understand. It wasn't my fault," she explained.

"Of course not …" said Snape in a mock-concerned voice. "You were probably just exhausted from grading papers. Professor, if you'll excuse me, I have too …"

"Miss Granger came to see me before you arrived!" the witch blurted, continuing her defense. "She was hysterical … I didn't know what to do so I invited her inside. She was bawling her eyes out over some wizard … I tried to help, but couldn't. I sent her away!"

Snape rolled his shoulders annoyingly.

"It's true! She left around 9:15."

The corridor had only one entrance. If Granger had left around 9:15, he should have passed her on the way to her quarters! Still, he couldn't imagine a reason why Adrianna would lie about such a thing. It was too easy to verify.

_I suppose she could have flown out of the window, _he thought unconvinced.

"Professor, I fail to see the relevance …"

"No, you don't understand. We had tea. Shortly after she left, I fell into a deep asleep. I didn't wake up until the next morning!"

Snape observed the witch coldly.

"Well, don't you see? It must have been the tea! She must have slipped me something," said Adrianna.

Severus studied his colleague with audacity and doubt. He knew the Gryffindor was less than pristine and such an act was not beneath her ethics, but to suggest that a student would drug a teacher for no reason at all was absolutely preposterous!

"And her motive?" he flatly asked.

"I don't know," Torres huffed. "That's what I can't figure out. Maybe it was a joke or something."

"This conversation is a joke," said Snape, turning away.

Suddenly, Torres saw her plans go up in smoke.

"Please … Sev – be reasonable," she playfully pleaded.

Hearing the use of Lily's pet name forced the wizard to twitch involuntarily. He managed to make it to the bottom the staircase before turning on the witch.

"Torres!" he said, purposely forgoing her title. "I must ask that you do not address me so informally and never, under _any_ circumstances, refer to me by 'that' name or any other nickname you may have floating around in your head!"

Adrianna frowned.

"Do we _understand_ each other?" Snape coldly finished.

"Yes, of course. I'm sorry," she said stiffly.

It was obvious by her tone that her apology held no meaning. She was simply obeying protocol. Severus observed the witch suspiciously. Her sudden change in demeanor was swift and questionable.

"I merely wanted to explain what happened. Now, that I have, we can move on," Torres said calmly.

The pretty witch moved slowly down the spiral wound. She wore a frosty smile as she moseyed passed Snape who was standing there less enraged than before.

"Good day, Professor."

Severus glared after the daft woman. She was moving carelessly down the corridor, seemingly unaffected by their exchange. He maintained a watchful eye on her plump bottom until she was gone, secretly wondering if he had acted in haste.

He quickly decided _no_.

"Some women leave us needful of a kiss, while others leave us pondering the need for love ..." a voice said from behind.

Startled, Severus spun around.

"Where …" he confusingly began.

"Some women leave us needful of a kiss, while others leave us pondering the need for love – Autumn Hollings," Nicholas reiterated.

"Where did you come from?"

"Me? Oh, I was standing over there. I am waiting on Professor McGonagall."

Suddenly, Severus looked very uncomfortable. Sweetie sensed that and quickly intervened.

"You needn't worry, Severus. Your secret is safe with me." He smiled.

"What secret is that?"

The old man tipped his gaze knowingly, but did not respond to the question.

"I've been meaning to inform you that Draco is doing quite well. He has a natural talent for transfiguration."

Severus was grateful for the change in subject and played along.

"So, Malfoy has been keeping up with his extracurricular studies, has he?"

"Yes, enthusiastically so! As his Head of House, you should be proud."

Snape pondered the thought for a moment.

"I've never questioned Draco's capacity for learning, merely his motives." He said blandly.

Nicholas glanced up the stairwell to find Minerva had not yet emerged from her office.

"Mister Malfoy informed me of your decision to ground Slytherin House … something to do with a mistreated house elf, I believe? I must admit, I'm impressed."

Snape observed the old man curiously.

"Whatever for?" he asked.

"It's not every day that an individual, particularly a leader, goes against the grain for the sake of another – especially for someone so small. That shows true character," Sweetie explained.

"I'm sure Draco and his lot would disagree."

"Yes, I'm sure they would."

"Well, I have business to attend too. If you will excuse me," Snape said curtly.

The Potions Master abruptly turned and resumed his course. He could feel Sweetie's eyes upon him as he departed, but frankly, he was in no mood for idle chitchat. More to the point, he was a little spooked by the old wizard's sudden appearance. Severus had been standing in the corridor for a full five minutes with no trace of a bodily presence. It wasn't that he suspected Sweetie of treachery. He just didn't like surprises.

_I'm slipping …_ he thought, annoyed by the prospect.

* * *

Hermione reached for another volume of Hieroglyphs and Logograms. She was thumbing through its pages when the clock struck 2:00. Hermione forcefully disengaged herself and glanced up. Her eyes rounded when she realized what time it was. She had been so completely absorbed in her reading that she lost track of time.

"Crap! The game!" she snapped, placing the book back on the shelf. "I'm late!"

The witch gathered up her materials and threw them into her tote. She told Harry and Ron she would be there afternoon to cheer them on. Ron was counting on her to be there. Hermione launched her bag over her shoulder and hurried down the aisle. She weaved through the rows of books until she was in the main passage. From there, she took off running.

With his face buried in a book and his nose mere inches from the script, Snape was on his third volume when he casually turned the corner. Neither party knew what hit them.

*Thud*

Both parties went flying into their perspective directions, Snape into the bookshelf and Hermione onto her back. Papers and books went everywhere! Thankfully, it was Quidditch Saturday and the library was largely empty, but the accident did not go unseen or unheard. Madam Pince frowned deeply when she heard the clatter.

"Blasted kids," she mumbled.

Dazed, Hermione slowly sat up. She searched the floor at the mess of parchments and textbooks lying all around. Although her robes and hair were out of place, the witch was fine. That changed when she glanced over and saw Snape recovering. Wincing, the Professor quickly regained his footing. The collision had knocked him into a bookcase. He was sure the impact would result in a painful bruise later, but at least he wasn't on his back.

"I'm so sorry, Professor …" Hermione began.

Severus honed in on the voice and looked down. Granger was on the floor. Her books and papers were scattered everywhere and her skirt was uncomfortably high. As if bitten, the wizard immediately closed his eyes.

"Miss Granger," he spat. "Do cover yourself, will you?"

Hermione glanced down. Blushing profusely, she quickly yanked down her skirt.

_Well, that's embarrassing,_ she thought.

"Er ... Professor, you can look now," she sheepishly informed.

Snape opened his eyes and sighed.

"Five points from Gryffindor," he said dully, offering his hand to the witch.

Hermione didn't notice his pale fingers immediately.

"For what?!"

"For _not _paying attention!"

"What about you? You weren't paying attention either!"

"I wasn't running through the library," he said coolly, extending his hand further. "Five more points for your cheek."

Hermione accepted the Professor's hand with a hard grasp. He lifted her up and gave her a moment to put herself in order. There was no use in arguing with him.

"Keep it down, or – "said Pince, arriving only seconds later. "Oh, hello Professor! I didn't know you were back here. What happened?"

"Just a little run in – everything is fine." He answered.

Glaring angrily, Hermione gathered her things.

"I heard noises," Irma pried.

"Yes, Granger was racing through the aisle. What you heard was our untimely collision."

"I see … well, I've told the students a hundred times, no running in the library!"

"It was an accident," Hermione mumbled.

The Librarian shot the Gryffindor a stern look. After an exaggerated pause, she turned towards Snape.

"What is your opinion of the new shipment, Professor?"

"So far, so good – I have several books to go. It will take me most of the afternoon to review them all."

"Well, with any luck, you won't uncover any _naughty_ magic. Please let me know when you're finished," she said politely. "I'd like to catalog them as soon as possible. It's been sometime since we've received anything new!"

_Naughty magic?_

"I will," Snape said.

Pinch-faced Irma stalked back to her desk. She didn't like the fact that Snape was in charge of reviewing new materials. From her perspective, that was the Librarian's job. Still, he was a Professor and a former DADA instructor. Simply put, he outranked her.

Snape waited until the witch was gone before he spoke.

"Are you alright?" He quietly asked, noting Granger's pained expression as she scooped up the last of her things.

"I'm light a few points and less a few minutes," she said, straining to sound cordial. "I'm dandy."

"Where are you off too in such a hurry?"

"The Quidditch match. I told Harry and Ron I'd be there."

Snape's expression shifted from interested to bored.

"Oh."

"Did I hear Madam Pince correctly? The library received new books?"

"Yes, earlier this week. I am responsible for determining whether or not the literature is suitable for students."

Hermione appeared on the verge of an inquisition, but she thoughtfully stopped herself.

"How interesting," she replied.

Snape knew the Gryffindor was holding back, he just didn't know why.

"Well, I suppose I should go. I'm already late. I do apologize for bumping into you, Professor."

"Slamming into me is more like it!" he said.

Hermione wanted to smile, but didn't. He was such an arse sometimes. He had a snarky comment for everything.

"Good day," she said, dismissing the opportunity to defend herself.

As Severus watched the witch shrink, something Adrianna said popped into his mind.

"Miss Granger," he called out.

Hermione stopped.

_What now?_ She thought, dropping her tote and swinging around.

"Would you care to assist me with my research? I could use an extra pair of eyes."

"You'd like me to help you?" she said, a hint of disbelief in her voice.

Hermione glanced at the exit guiltily. She told Harry and Ron that she would be at the game, but how could she pass up the opportunity to see new books and read new spells? It didn't take Hermione long to make up her mind. She picked up her bag and began back down the aisle towards Snape. She was still miffed about the loss of points, but Professor Snape requesting her assistance on something soothed the sting.

"I'm sure they'll understand," she said, not really believing her own pep talk. "Tell me, Professor, will I have a chance to earn those points back?"

Snape briefly considered the idea before rejecting it on principle. This wasn't an extra credit assignment.

"Unlikely," he informed.


	22. A Necessary Heartbreak

Hermione sat opposite of Snape at a table in the back of the library. They spent the better part of the afternoon engrossed in their individual tasks. Hermione was given the chore of doubling back and checking the Professor's copies to ensure nothing was missed. Between passages, Hermione glanced over to find Snape buried up to his brows in text. He seemed to be taking his job very seriously. Most of the books centered on history, cooking, and home remedies, but every so often he'd let out a grunt, indicating something of interest.

"What is it? May I see?" Hermione said excitedly.

More than thirty minutes had passed since his last grumble. Snape lowered the volume and scowled.

"No," he answered, placing it in a pile reserved for questionable items.

"It must be very _naughty_ magic," she teased, recalling Madam Pince's comment.

The wizard's mouth twisted into a half-smirk. He didn't much care for the word naughty. Wicked, mischievous, and dangerous were all acceptable terms, but naughty?

"It's an inebriation potion called, Nip," Snape offered, stroking his brow thoughtfully.

"An inebriation potion? I've never heard of that."

"Perhaps, that's because no self-respecting master would ever pass along such destructive knowledge," he snorted.

"Well, somebody had too or it wouldn't be in that book," she said, pausing briefly. "A potion that gets you drunk? That doesn't sound so terrible. If you think about it, it's no worse than doing it the old-fashioned way."

Hermione was so busy dissecting the information at her fingertips that she didn't notice the Professor's objection. He was glaring at her from over the top of his nose.

"It may interest you to know that many recreational potions are highly _addictive_. Nip was a trendy one in the youth before me – easy to come by back then. Some became hooked very quickly and never recovered."

"I see," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Whatever happened to it? Nip – I mean. Did the Ministry ban it or something?"

"Mm, yes - eventually they stepped in, but not before the damage was done. Some sought help and recovered – partially at least, but many simply passed out of good society. Some of the users discovered alternatives and in doing so, found it easy to steal, fight, and kill for the right price or fix. Surprisingly, they're still around. They tend to occupy the less desirable places of our world along with the other rift raft."

Hermione watched Snape's eyes trek across the table as if trying to recall something. Did he know someone that had taken the elixir? If he had, that might explain the strangeness in his voice. She then thought of Knockturn Alley. There were dozens of _undesirables_ there. Perhaps, he knew someone that wound up there.

"Professor, did you know any Nip users?"

*Silence*

Hermione couldn't read his expression, but his eyes seemed to change. For a split second, something familiar and gentle was there … a recollection of sorts, but it didn't last long. A blink later and it was gone.

"No, of course not –" said Snape, sounding a tad defensive. "I don't associate with people like that."

"People like who?"

Severus was sorely tempted to drop the subject, but for the sake of argument he clarified.

"_Weak_ people, Miss Granger. Addicts are people that have given up! Perhaps, they did it to escape their own personal hell, a hell they created – or perhaps, a hell fated to them, but rather than try – rather than change, they gave up. There were stories of loved ones – small children left behind, but as addicts they didn't care – they left them neglected and despised. Addicts are nothing but selfish cowards! We all want to escape the harshness of reality sometimes, seek our own personal Utopia, but it's an illusion. I have no use for people who are incapable of enduring the ugliness of life, just as I have no tolerance for idiots who whine about their lot," he said poignantly.

Hermione lowered her eyes. She deeply sensed that the Professor was speaking from experience – not just about the potion. After a moment of silence, Snape reached for another book.

"Sir …" Hermione softly began. "Don't you believe in second chances?"

Snape ignored the small chill coursing through his neck. Her use of the phrase 'second chance' struck a chord with him.

"Take yourself for example – you changed. You went from being a Death Eater to … a … a hero!"

Severus grinned. It wasn't a pleasant or happy smile, but one that bore ridicule.

"I am no such thing! At least, not in the traditional sense. I was motivated to do what I did for as long as I did and I assure you, the _greater _good had little, if anything to do with it."

"What was it then? What kept you going?" Hermione pried, suddenly recalling the mysterious woman Harry mentioned months back. "Who …"

Snape stiffened. The witch was treading on dangerous ground.

"Miss Granger," he said, cutting her off mid-question. "Too often you have concerned yourself with things that do not concern you, but I draw the line at my life! You are here to assist me. We're not here to chitchat! However, I may be willing to suspend that rule if you'd care to explain to me why you were in Professor Torres's quarters the other night."

Hermione blanched. "The other night?" she repeated.

Suddenly, her heart fluttered. Little did she know that Snape was waiting on pins and needles to hear what she had to say. Her answer could redeem or further condemn the witch. He had more or less written Adrianna off, chalking up a liaison with her as a bad idea, but he still wanted to know what happened.

"Torres said that you were terribly upset," he added.

"Oh, um …" the witch stalled. "It was feminine troubles. That's all."

Like any normal male, Snape balked at the thought.

"I take it that Madam Pomfrey was unavailable," he probed.

"I don't know. I didn't check."

Drumming his fingers against the table, Snape studied the witch as she nervously cracked open a book and pretended to read.

"Curious ... why were you so frantic? Professor Torres said that you were hysterical. I find it difficult to believe that your feminine cares are that stressful," he said, knowing full and well the witch was deceiving him.

Hermione scanned the text as she tried to cook up a viable lie. She should have known Torres would tell him. Why did she blame her troubles on her menses?! That was stupid – but then, she wasn't accustomed to lying on her toes. Hermione thought carefully. Should she tell him the truth? No, she couldn't. She had no proof. Malfoy's exchange was strange, suspicious even, but it said nothing and convicted no one. Snape would undoubtedly defend his Slytherin charge and Torres would gain credibility. She didn't want that.

"Miss Granger?"

Suddenly, Hermione had an idea. Placing her book aside, she folded her arms across the table and tried to look serious.

"I'm sorry, Professor …" she announced, drawing out the performance.

"About?"

"I lied. My visit had nothing to do with my menses or any other feminine issue …"

Snape shifted when she used the term _menses_. He was an adult and clearly understood the female condition, but he was also an Englishman and didn't believe in discussing it openly.

"I went to Professor Torres because I needed advice ..."

Snape nodded once, urging the Gryffindor to continue.

"I wanted to know about sex," she said boldly_. _"You see, I'm confused …"

Blinking, Snape sat up and cleared his throat. He felt incredibly warm all of a sudden.

"Granger, that's enough. I ... I don't need to hear anymore," he interrupted.

"Please sir, allow me to finish. I want to explain. I've been having these urges …"

Snape nervously inspected the area. Yes, teachers were permitted to discuss the 'birds and the bees' with their students, but NOT in mixed company – males to males, females to females. That's how it worked.

"I just don't know what to do," she said, playing it up.

The Professor scoffed.

"Say no," he coldly advised.

"It's not that easy, sir. Torres said that sexual urges were our body's way of telling us it needs something ..."

"She said what?!" he hissed, careful to keep his voice down.

"She said that …"

"I heard what you said!" he shushed. "But it was horrible advice! Ignore it and take a cold shower. Perhaps, you should advise Mister Weasley to do the same. That is the best advice I can offer you."

"Ron?" Hermione said absently.

Her hesitation caught the wizard off guard. Could she have been referring to someone else?

"Oh, yes … Ron, of course," she smiled.

"In the meantime, I shall have a talk with the Headmistress. We don't need teachers making our jobs more difficult by encouraging students to act on their impulses. It's bloody hard enough keeping you idiots in-line as it is!"

Hermione took offense to the term idiot.

"I'm not an _idiot_," she said snappily.

"Mind your cheek," Snape said uncomfortably. "And pass me that book!"

Hermione did as the Professor asked. It was obvious that she had gotten under skin, though he was doing his best to hide it. Apparently, the term 'sex' wasn't in his vocabulary. This amused her a bit. She thought all men thought about it and therefore, wanted to talk about it. It seemed that only applied to young wizards.

"Sir, I apologize if I made you uncomfortable."

"Granger," he curtly interrupted, not wanting to admit that she had thrown him for a loop. "I think we've exhausted this subject, don't you?"

"Ahem," a voice said.

Both Hermione and Snape turned around.

"Ron?" Hermione said surprisingly.

Harry was standing close behind. He looked apologetic for some reason.

"Yes? What is it?" said Snape, looking between the wizards annoyingly.

He was still recovering from the conversation seconds earlier.

"Er – can we talk?" Ron asked Hermione.

"Ron," she said a bit guiltily. "Can it wait?"

Glowering at the Professor, the redhead bristled. His annoyance was met with a cold, steely glare. Neither realized it, but their testosterone's levels were inching up.

"Weasley, say what you came here to say or leave. Granger is busy assisting _me_."

Ron ignored the Professor and focused on Hermione. This irritated the wizard, but he kept quiet.

"Hermione, what happened? I thought you were coming to the game?"

"This happened," she said, motioning over the mass of spell books. "I wanted to help."

"But you promised!"

"I know and I'm sorry, but …" she shrugged, glancing between her beau and the Professor embarrassingly. She didn't want to say it, but the game didn't hold a candle to the work they were doing. "Look at all the new books we're getting!"

"C'mon, Ron – we should go. They need to finish," said Harry.

"I'm sorry, guys – really. I hope you understand," said Hermione, not feeling the brunt of Ron's disappointment. After all, it was just a game. "But we'll talk later. You can fill me in on all the glorious details!"

"Glory," Harry snorted. "Gryffindor lost!"

The weight on Snape's eyelids seemed to lift instantly.

"Gryffindor, lost?" he echoed, "to Hufflepuff?"

The shiver in his voice suggested that he was on the verge of laughing. Harry quickly shot the snarky hero a _please don't_ glance.

"I don't believe it," Hermione replied. "Gryffindor has a much better team than Hufflepuff this year. Did someone get hurt or something?"

"Just their pride," Snape mused.

He didn't stop musing, even when the trio shot him a dirty look. It wasn't in his nature to be outwardly merry, but it was funny. First Slytherin and now this!

"We don't know what happened," Ron grumbled. "It's like they were hopped up on Felix Felicis or something!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron." the witch sighed. "No one at Hogwarts is licensed to brew …"

Hermione's eyes slowly shifted towards Snape who was still smiling. The moment their eyes made contact, he stopped. He didn't appreciate the insinuation.

"Is something wrong?" he said.

_I dare you …_

"No, sir ... I was just thinking," Hermione hesitated, turning towards her friends. "We'll talk about it when I get back to Gryffindor. I'm sorry – really."

Ron just stared at the witch. He couldn't believe she was more interested in Snape's little book club than him. To make matters worse, he was fuming over the conversation that he and Harry overhead as they were walking up. Hermione was having urges? Why did she not tell him? More importantly, why was she confiding in a man who probably knew more about dentistry than sex? Not that he was an expert or anything, but Snape was an old git and the Head of Slytherin House!

"Yeah, whatever –" he said resentfully.

Ron turned and stalked back down the aisle. Potter followed, equally stunned by the loss and Hermione's comments. Why was she having the sex-talk with Snape? True, he was a teacher, but ... ewe.

Snape watched the young men leave with satisfaction. Gryffindors were such sore losers. Whenever Slytherin lost, they used that disappointment to their advantage. Losing was an excellent motivator.

"Shall we continue?" he said lightly.

"Sir … I'm sorry if I doubted you," Hermione admitted. "You would never do anything like that."

Resuming his work, Severus did not respond. In fact, the apology seemed to bounce right off of him. He had grown accustomed to people assuming the worse over the years.

"Pass me that book, will you?"

* * *

Hermione rubbed her sore neck as she made her way to Gryffindor Tower. Although she spent the entire day working, she felt accomplished. The Professor wound up rejecting three submissions for containing illicit material, but the library gained sixty new volumes. It was a productive afternoon.

Appearing a bit frazzled, Hermione entered Gryffindor with a smile. No one seemed to notice her come in, but she didn't notice them either. She was still in apprentice mode. It wasn't until she took a serious look around that she realized Ron and Harry weren't there.

"Have you seen Harry and Ron?" she asked Seamus.

"Um, Ron … no I haven't seen him, but I saw Harry with Ginny earlier." He answered.

"I wonder if he's upstairs," she said, thinking aloud.

"No, I was just up there. I didn't see him."

"Thanks," Hermione said tiredly.

She wanted to talk to Ron before she went to bed. Knowing him, he was probably in a blue-funk over Gryffindor's loss. A heartfelt talk would help lift his spirits and patch any hard feelings. Hermione explored the upper levels. Despite what Seamus said, she checked the boy's dormitory. She asked one of the younger wizards to check the lavatory, but Ron was nowhere to be found.

"Where could he be? The tower isn't but so big," she said.

Hermione made her way back down stairs. She questioned some of her housemates, but no one seemed to know anything. In a last ditch effort to find him, Hermione headed to the study. It was very unlikely he'd be there but it was worth a try.

Hermione opened the study door and peeked inside. At first she didn't see anything, but just as she was about to leave, she caught a glimpse of a shadow moving along the wall behind the bookshelf. It definitely looked like Ron's silhouette. Smiling, Hermione entered the small library and darted around the corner. She came to a complete stop the second she turned down the aisle.

Standing there, the tote Hermione had been carrying slipped from her grasp onto the floor. She was speechless. She watched with a heavy heart as Ron kissed and fondled his ex-girlfriend, Lavender Brown. Her mind was screaming for her to say something – to do something, but what? Although it pained her to admit it, Ron never kissed her that way – not once.

Moments passed before the wizard felt the presence of another person. He reluctantly opened his eyes to find a figure standing in the middle of the aisle. His reaction was slow, but once he realized it was Hermione, he shot away from the witch he was holding like a bolt of lightning. The move left Lavender a bit dazed and confused until she realized that Ron's girlfriend was standing a few feet away.

Unwanted tears were streaming down Hermione's face.

"How - could you," she choked.

Lavender quickly moved behind Ron. If the witch started throwing hexes, she didn't want to be in the line of fire.

"Hermione … I'm sorry," he said softly.

"You're sorry? Sorry?"

"I didn't mean for you to find out like this," Ron explained.

Hermione's face twisted confusingly.

"How long has this been going on?"

With pleading hands, the wizard rushed forward. Hermione backed away.

"_Tell _me," she strained to say.

Ron and Lavender looked apologetic. Ron found it hard to meet Hermione's eyes and stared solemnly at his feet.

"Two … maybe three weeks," he shamefully admitted.

For the first time in Hermione's life, she didn't know what to say. It was impossible for her to articulate the depth of betrayal she felt. It ran just that deep. Should she scream? Should she hex him? Should she rip Lavender's hair out? Ron betrayed her, not Lavender, but Lavender wasn't innocent. She knew he had a girlfriend!

It took all of her willpower not turn them both into beetles!

Hermione was on the verge of exploding when something inside her caved. All at once, the maddening jealously that was threatening to tear her heart apart lessened and she saw everything, particularly Ron, in a different light. She couldn't explain it, but for one fleeting moment, she felt touched by calm.

Plainly confused, the witch bought herself a few minutes by scanning the area. Her eyes stopped when she saw a third shadow move across the wall behind Ron. Hermione frowned. Her watery, distorted vision made it impossible to make anything out, but she was certain she saw something.

_The study was empty when I came in,_ she thought.

Hermione dismissed the idea and focused all her attention on the cheating duo. Ron was preparing to take a knee when Hermione snickered. It wasn't a warm hearty laugh, but a cold, cynical scoff. Naturally, he felt she was laughing at him and went on the defensive.

"You're always so busy … so distant. We don't talk or hang out anymore. We don't do anything together! It's … it's like I don't exist sometimes," he explained.

Clutching her stomach, the witch began to laugh.

Lavender slowly backed away. She knew crazy when she saw it and a scorned witch with good aim was capable of anything.

"Stop laughing! Why are you laughing?"

Hermione smiled through the tears and found Ron's face. He looked dazed and a bit frightened.

"Ronald – oh, excuse me, Won …" she corrected. "I wish you both the very best. I do – really. I hope you're happy together. You really do make a perfect couple."

"Hermione …" Ron said urgently. "I'm worried about you. Are you okay?"

"Fine," she said, wiping her face. "I have to go."

Hermione threw her tote over shoulder and turned to leave.

"Wait, Hermione!"

The witch ignored his halfhearted plea and hurried towards the exit. Although it went against his better judgment, Ron did not pursue her. How could he? What could he possibly say?

"Give her some time," said Lavender with a pouty smile.

A chill ran through the wizard when he heard a door close in the distance. He may have just made the biggest mistake of his life.

* * *

Severus was patrolling the outer corridors when he spotted a shadowy figure dart across the school grounds. Its size and speed told him that it wasn't a teacher. Sighing, the Professor filed pursuit. Wandering school property after curfew was worth at least 100 points!

* * *

**A/C:** I wasn't overly creative with Ron, but I assure you, there is more here than meets the eye. Thanks for reading!


	23. Over the Hill

Severus pursued the lone figure across the school grounds. Although he lagged several yards behind, he managed to keep its silhouette in his sight. There was no moon, leaving the grounds extremely dark, but the stars helped to illuminate his path without the use of magic. Still, the mature man making haste found the hilly terrain more of challenge than he had expected.

"Whoever it is – is headed for the gate," he noticed, panting slightly as he struggled to keep up.

Mid-October was a cool month for Scotland. The afternoons were crisp and the evenings bordered on wintery cold. That night, an autumn breeze added to the chill, rousing the wizard from his nightly lull even more. He had been rather sleeping before stepping outside and now he was invigorated! Annoyed, but invigorated.

Severus slowed his pace as he neared Hagrid's hut, glancing briefly when he saw Hagrid in the window lift his teacup and speak. It looked as if he was making a toast. Seeing no one else there, the Professor scoffed. The mangy brute was talking to himself.

_"Why did they ever rebuild that old hut? Minerva should have insisted that he live in the castle with the rest of us! Maybe then he wouldn't need to talk to himself,_ the wizard thought.

Snape was only a few strides away from his target. The cloaked figure was so intent on his objective that he never turned around or noticed the man approaching from behind. Startled, the figure swung around and threw off the Professor's hand when he grabbed his shoulder.

"Let go!"

"Going somewhere?" said Snape.

The question lingered on the air along with his subtle pants. He was getting too old for this.

*Silence*

"Mm – well, I suppose that is self-explanatory," he intoned, briefly mocking his own observation.

The cloaked figure said nothing.

"If I'm not mistaken, the punishment for unauthorized travel is suspension – pending an audience with the Headmistress. Your Head of House will also need to be informed, but first –" said Snape, lowering his voice. "Take off your hood!"

No response

"Do it."

No response

Annoyed, the Professor reached out and yanked it down – revealing the culprit as his own.

_Draco –_ he sighed.

The boy glared at his father's friend – his godfather hatefully. It was as if he was waiting for him to say something – to do something, but Snape did not. He simply took a weary breath and stepped back. He wasn't so much shocked as he was disappointed.

"What's wrong? Dumbledore's ghost got your tongue?"

Severus squared his shoulders and locked his jaw in effort to avoid scolding the ungrateful little pup for evening mentioning his name! Together, they had saved his soul and this was how he repaid them … with insolence and disrespect? Severus wasn't sure what had gotten into Draco since his father's sentencing, but it seemed the boy had taken a turn for the worst.

"And just where do you think you're going?" he asked.

"I have business off grounds," he explained as if talking to a servant.

"B-u-s-i-n-e-s-s? What kind of business?"

"Personal. Now, if you'll _excuse_ me," Draco said nastily before turning towards the gate.

Snape broke form and snatched the boy's cloak so hard that it knocked the young man off balance. Malfoy nearly lost his footing when he was forced to face his Head of House. For a split second, he regretted turning his back to him. He'd forgotten how short-tempered he could be.

"You ungrateful, little prick –" Snape snarled. "How dare you!"

"Why don't you run along and report me like a good informant? I'm sure the Headmistress is still awake!"

For the sake of his House, he didn't want to report his own charge, but he would if need be.

"Do you think I won't punish you? Is that it? Do you think you're above reprimand? I assure you, Draco – you are _NOT_!"

"If you must know what I truly think, I think that you're a traitor and a disgrace! You make a better lapdog than a hero and you don't deserve to be Head of Slytherin House! You ruined everything. Good, decent wizards are in Azkaban because of you; wizards like my father. He was kind to you. He took pity on you. He was the only real friend you ever had. And you repaid him by betraying us all! You helped ruin our way of life!"

Snape glared at his charge emptily for a full minute before relaxing into a chuckle. It wasn't a hearty laugh, but a cruel one – one meant to ridicule. The boy was clearly misguided.

"You're a _fool_, Draco."

"A fool … yes, I suppose you're right. I was a fool, but not anymore."

"Oh, grow up! What do you know about 'our' way of life? What do you know about anything? I hate to burst your loving, family image – dear Draco, but your father is no innocent! He deserved to be locked away for the crimes he committed before you were even born! And just so we're clear, Lucius and I were never friends. He was an _acquaintance_ who looked down his nose at me and everyone else. I never wanted or needed his pity! As far as being anyone's lapdog ... how do you think the Dark Lord would have treated you – all of us, had he won? We were his slaves. So, when I say that you are a _fool_ to mourn his vision, I mean it!" Snape seethed.

"I don't care about Voldemort! I'm glad he's dead! He was insane, but his dream was pure like the rest of us. We would've gotten rid of him eventually. And you too, you _fifthly_ half-blood!"

The corner of Snape's mouth twitched. With those simple words, Draco had pierced his emotional armor. It was hard to believe that someone he cared about could think so lowly of him. To be addressed by one's blood status in such a disdainful way was much worse that being called a traitor. It was the equivalent to spitting on their magical heritage. At that moment, Severus's mind turned towards Lily and that horrible day. Although he had learned from his mistake long ago, it was still haunting and now he was feeling her pain – if only a little.

Malfoy caught the twitch and smiled knowingly. He had won.

Severus lowered his eyes. He wasn't ready to throw in the towel, but he beginning to see that maybe Draco was a lost cause. Severus refused to apologize or explain his actions to such an inexperienced wizard – one who had never truly tasted despair. It was enough to know that he was graduating that year. Afterwards, he would be free to make all the mistakes his father made and more. Free to throw away his mother's wish for a better life for her son; free to wallow in misery, and free to hate him for the rest of his life. However, until then – he would obey. The wizard was still his superior. Loyalties be damned, he had no qualms with acting like it!

"G_et_ inside," Snape whispered, harboring a dark and terrible face.

Draco scoffed.

"I told you –" he said before he was cut short.

"Now – or I'll drag you inside," Snape hissed. "And I'll take special care in hitting every bump along the way! Maybe afterwards, I'll take you over my knee. God only knows you could use a good spanking!"

Malfoy's smugness lost something. Reviled or not, the Professor didn't make idle threats.

"You wouldn't dare! If you touch me, you'll be sacked!" Draco screeched. As an afterthought, he suddenly recalled that most of his family's contacts were either in jail or on the run.

"I thought I explained this before. Apparently, you weren't listening. Do you honestly think that the Headmistress would believe you over me? Being a treacherous traitor, aka hero, has its advantages you know. Furthermore, I caught you trying to sneak out. I'd rather not blemish Slytherin's record with such a sloppy offense, but don't think for one moment I wouldn't hold the door open for you if McGonagall decided to kick you out!"

Malfoy's confidence seemed to evaporate. Snape detected the boy's fear and honed in on the scent.

"Mm, I see ... you're not ready to venture out into the real world, are you? Well, I understand. It's a nasty place. Some might reject an aspiring young Death Eater. Believe me, I know all about that," the Professor said, lingering for a moment.

Malfoy shifted under Snape's gaze. He knew the wizard was an accomplished Legilimens and had to be careful so he stalled by glancing off into the distance at Hagrid's hut. The half-giant was sitting by the fire talking merrily. Who was he talking too?

_Stupid oaf,_ the wizard thought

"However, you needn't worry. Unlike me, Draco, your inheritance has ensured you a place among the finer families here and abroad. Despite being branded, you'll probably go on to marry well and live a charmed life. _If _you play your cards right, you won't suffer as I did."

Hearing that, Malfoy glanced back. The bit about him not suffering got his attention. Of course, he'd suffer. He was suffering right now! His father was in prison and his mother was disgraced. The Malfoy name was ruined and his friends were all on the short list to be next. Marry well? Bah! Marriage was the furthest thing from his mind. Money – well, he still had that, but even that wasn't safe. The Ministry could still seize it. The only reason they hadn't was that his inheritance was hidden in his mother's maiden name – recorded as the Black Family legacy.

Moments passed between the men. It seemed neither of them was in hurry to say anything.

"I never wanted to be a Death Eater," Malfoy calmly admitted. "I never wanted to follow Voldemort. He was a monster."

The softness in Draco's voice stunned the harsh wizard examining his face. He was searching for signs of deception and mockery, but found none. He always knew when Draco was lying and right now, the boy was being sincere.

"I know," he gently replied. "It is unfortunate that your father was imprisoned, but life must go on. The next few months will be difficult –"

"Unfortunate?" Draco snapped, looking at the wizard as if he'd sprouted horns. "Losing your favorite pet is unfortunate. Not having a date on Friday night is unfortunate. Knowing that your father is rotting away in a prison cell, tormented by Dementors, and Merlin knows what else, is a bloody fucking tragedy!"

"Watch your language! Remember who you're talking too!"

"Oh, I know who I'm talking too,_ Professor_. I'm talking to the man who punished the whole of Slytherin House over a stupid House Elf. I'm talking to the turncoat who sold his Slytherin family to the enemy! I'm talking to the pathetic wizard the kids used to call _Snivellus_. If you must know, I'm talking to the man I distrust and despise!"

Once again, the young wizard had struck a blow to the elder wizard glaring down at him. Draco was the closest thing he ever had or would ever have to a son.

"Stay away from me!" he spat, shoving passed the Professor with such force it nearly knocked him off balance.

Wounded, Snape watched the blonde wizard stalk away. Yes, he could run after him; demand to know where he had been going that night, but he lacked the energy and will to sift through the lies. Whatever Draco was up too, he only hoped it did not end with his ruin.

Severus lingered on the lawn gathering his thoughts for several moments. The encounter had taken the wind out of his sails. He glanced back up the walkway to find Draco's silhouette shrinking in the distance and wondered if he had made the right decision. Perhaps, he should have let him go. He could have placed a tracking charm on the wizard and waited for him to return. At the very least, he'd have some answers.

"Hindsight is 20/20," he gruffly remarked, appearing somewhat defeated.

Severus took a deep breath and headed back to the castle. Just as he was passing Hagrid's hut, he looked over again. The half-giant was still talking to himself.

_Oh, good grief man!_

Snape stopped when Hagrid's front door creaked opened and a figure filled its glowing entrance.

"Good night, Professor. Thanks fur comin' to see me," said Rubeus, moving aside so the old man could pass.

"It was my pleasure. I hope we can do this again," Nicholas replied.

"Ho' bout next Saturday?"

"Sounds wonderful – pencil me in," he smiled.

When the door closed, Sweetie turned and inched down the steps. Severus would have gladly ducked behind a bush or a tree, but there were no trees or bushes to hide behind; at least, none in range.

"Severus! What a pleasant surprise! How are you tonight?" Nicholas called out.

Snape sighed. He didn't have anything against the cheery wizard – other than the cheery bit, he just didn't feel like company.

"Good evening, Nicholas," he feebly greeted.

Sweetie walked slowly towards the wizard. Snape didn't know if he was purposely taking his time or if he was so old that he couldn't help it, but he bristled impatiently just the same.

"Would you consider accompanying me back to the castle? I dare say, I'm not as agile as I used to be and I fear tripping and not being discovered until morning," said Nicholas, chuckling a bit.

"Of course – but perhaps, it would be wise not to travel so late. After all, the last teacher that died at this school never left …" Snape replied, pausing in the way of an afterthought. "Excluding Headmasters and such."

Nicholas laughed.

"You must be referring to Professor Binns! Ah yes, well – that was his choice. Personally, I would have chosen something more tropical."

A small grin worked its way across Severus's face. It seemed the old coot had a sense of humor. Most people didn't understand or appreciate his dry wit.

"Are you implying that ghosts have a choice?" he asked, initiating a walk.

"Of course, they do!"

"That's mind boggling. Why would anyone choose such a meaningless existence?"

"Perhaps it's because their lives were empty and unfulfilled. If you've noticed, truly happy people don't linger," he said knowingly. "Hufflepuff's jolly friar is the exception! I believe he stayed behind for laughs."

Snape nodded in agreement. The fat ghost was always laughing. The pair made their way up the school's path, secretly gauging the other while outwardly appearing to be engrossed in the night ambiance.

"Surely, you understand that the majority of people in the world are unhappy. If what you believe is true, why are there so few ghosts?"

Nicholas considered the question for a long moment.

"Death, my good Professor, is only the beginning. Some linger to care for loved others, some because they have unfinished business, while others were just people desperately afraid of the unknown at the time they died – therefore they didn't cross. It's rare however. In order for the soul to cling, a powerful inclination to stay must be present. One thing is certain though! No one can escape death – no one. Eventually we all must walk the path and _most_ choose too. Case in point, have you ever known a 3000-year-old ghost? I think not."

Snape's brows furrowed to the point they were nearly touching. The old wizard spoke as if he was an expert on the subject.

"I'm just curious," Sweetie continued. "How would you define a meaningless existence?"

Snape locked his hands behind his back and considered his answer. For years, he equated meaningless to being unproductive. People should have a purpose in life, but not everyone who exists has a reason to live. He was familiar with the notion that 'life' was the purpose and that people could find fulfillment by living every moment like it was their last. Naturally, Severus found the sentimental idea ludicrous; a lazy intellect's guiding star. If everyone subscribed to that theory, no one would ever work and there would be chaos in the streets!

"I define a meaningful existence as being full of purpose," Severus said more haughtily than he realized.

Nicholas's smile made a U-turn.

"Be sure to thank Merlin's Almanac of Philosophy for me," he laughingly chided. "It's not every day that I hear that quote!"

Snape interrupted with an ugly snort. Even at 38, he was still sensitive to anything resembling ridicule.

"But then, I'm being too harsh," Nicholas amended. "It's just that … well, anyone can regurgitate a meaning, but not everyone can characterize a feeling. Perhaps, the question was too deep …"

"Was that answer not good enough?" he snapped.

Sweetie didn't bat an eyelash.

"No, no – it was a fine answer … if you're twelve-years-old!" he chuckled, disguising the jab as a joke. "I guess I was hoping for something a bit more grown up. For Heaven's sake son, you returned from the dead! Quite frankly, I find your understanding very dry."

Severus didn't know whether to feel offended or challenged, but he'd be damned if he was going to let an old fart show him up. Stopping mid-stride, he turned towards Nicholas.

"Strange ... just this afternoon I had a similar conversation with one of your charges, Miss Granger."

"Really? Did you tell her what you told me? That a meaningless life is a life without purpose?"

"No," Severus said ridiculously. "We didn't delve that deep, but since you asked … a meaningless life is a life wasted on addictions – both emotional and physical. It's a life without knowledge or advancement. It's an existence without a healthy balance of rules and work. A meaningless life is having nothing to show at the end of your days to prove that you ever existed all!"

Feeling somewhat vindicated, Snape stood with his shoulders back. He didn't shy away from the onslaught of sentiment as he did with Hermione. He wasn't embarrassed.

Nicholas studied the wizard carefully.

"And love, Professor Snape? A productive life is fine, but shouldn't a meaningful life include_ love_?"

Snape's eyes froze – unable to blink from the wave of confusion washing over him. He was struck. Maybe it was the tone of Sweetie's voice or the soft look in his eyes, but something about the old man forced a bone chilling recollection.

"It would be foolish to believe that it didn't," he said absently. "… but if one is wise, he will not hang his hat on the hope that it exists for everyone."

*Silence*

Nicholas finally nodded.

"An interesting take, Professor – however, I sincerely hope that you're wrong. No one has ever suffered in soul by loving another or being loved," he said, resuming their walk.

Severus strolled alongside with less rigidness than before. It wasn't that he disagreed with Nicholas. He just wasn't ready to relinquish his cynical view on love. No, the soul might not suffer the body surely would so long as it breathed. The Professors continued their ascension unperturbed by the weather and exhausting terrain. Once they reached the castle, they lingered in the corridor for more than an hour discussing various ideas and topics, everything but life and death.

* * *

**A/C:** Well, it looks as if both HG and SS had an eventful night. I just needed to address the thing with Draco before going any deeper. Thanks for reading :)


	24. Sunday Morning

Severus groggily turned on his stomach and flung his arm over the edge of the bed. He remained motionless for several moments until something got his attention. Sniffing, the wizard rolled over and propped himself up on one elbow and opened his eyes. It took a second for his vision to adjust, but when it did, he found a pair of big blue eyes smiling up at him from beside the bed.

Severus flinched.

"Good morning, Professor!" said Olivia. "Thank goodness you're awake. Olivia was beginning to worry!"

"What are you doing in my bedchamber?" he hoarsely asked. "It's barely dawn!"

The elf scratched her head confusingly. It's almost 11 o'clock.

"You missed breakfast so Olivia brought you something to eat!"

"What? That's impossible," he replied, sitting up. "I haven't overslept since … since … I was a student!"

Severus leaned over and looked at the clock. He was stumped to learn that he had indeed overslept. It had been years since he'd done that. In fact, his inner clock was so finely attuned that he prided himself on not needing a timepiece at all. Maybe he really was slipping.

"Olivia hopes the Professor likes eggs and ham."

"Ahem," he uncomfortably began. He was still surprised by the time and the elf's intrusion. "Yes, thank you."

"Professor needn't thank Olivia. She is happy to serve."

Severus threw back his sheets and moved to the edge of the bed. He sat there gathering his thoughts for a moment. Olivia tried not to stare, but her eyes danced unevenly over his pale, bony legs. The wizard was too skinny.

"How long have you been here?" he asked, breaking the elf's concentration.

"Olivia stopped by to clean the lavatory when she saw you asleep. Then Olivia went to the kitchen …" said the elf, pausing to think. "… two-hours!"

Severus's brows furrowed.

"Two hours," he dryly spat. "What have you been doing this whole time?"

The elf pointed to her feet.

"Olivia stood here and waited for the Professor to wake up," she said as if it was normal and he was crazy for asking.

Severus blinked. He certainly didn't think it was normal. In fact, it was downright disturbing to know that something had been watching him while he slept and that he, Severus Snape, had been completely oblivious to its presence.

"You've been watching me sleep for two h-o-u-r-s?" he replied, disbelief in his voice.

Olivia folded her arms and gave him a stiff nod. What else was she to do – leave his food unattended? If she didn't stay, how was he to know that she brought it to him? It was a House Elf's job to anticipate the needs and wants of their masters. Granted, Snape was not her master, but she dearly hoped he would be someday. With that in mind, it was never too early to start showing off her skills.

Snape cradled his head and scoffed. He didn't feel like quarrelling. It was Sunday after all. Sunday was the most coveted day of the week for teachers. No class, no detentions, no match ups, no nothing. It was a day to relax, reflect, and unwind.

"Olivia also brought the mail," she said proudly.

Snape looked up.

"Mail? From whom? There is no post on Sunday."

"It's from the Ministry of Magic – special delivery. But it can wait until after you eat," said the elf, tucking the envelope behind her back.

"No, give it here!"

Olivia hesitated. If it was bad news, she'd rather him receive it on a full stomach. She only told him because she was excited about serving him so well. In retrospect, maybe she should have waited.

"_Give it here_," he mouthed.

Olivia sighed and slapped the envelope forward. Snape repaid her petulance by snatching it out her hand. After ripping it open, he read the letter aloud.

* * *

_Dear, Professor Snape,_

_You and a guest are cordially invited to this year's International Assembly of Sorcerers Annual Halloween Ball, 8 o'clock, All Hallows Eve. Please RSVP your attendance soon along with the name of your guest so that plans may be arranged for your travel._

_Best Wishes,_

_Senior Undersecretary, Helen Fargo_

* * *

Snape said nothing at first. He merely glared at the black satin invitation.

"Good news!" said Olivia, jumping up and down. "The Professor is going to a party! The Professor is going to a party! Wait – may Olivia come?"

The wizard frowned.

"Stop it!" he grumbled. "And no, you can't go."

The creature's eyes became very sad. Maybe it was too much to ask. She wasn't his elf after all.

"Olivia understands."

Snape's scowl deepened.

"You can't go because I'm not going," he clarified.

"Why?" she asked.

Olivia was genuinely confused. She thought it was a grand and marvelous thing to be invited to a Ministry sponsored affair.

"I was invited out of sheer nosiness – not appreciation. Once they've satisfied their appetite to _know_, they'll attempt to use me for their political schemes. Unlike Potter and the other members, I'm no fool. If I'm to be used, there has to be something in it for me. Those idiots don't have anything that I want – not right now."

"So they want to use you?" said Olivia.

"It's a reasonable assumption," Snape snorted. "Let let the _infamous_ Harry Potter be worshipped and interrogated if he wishes. I have no interest in their ridiculous games!"

"Are you going to attend the masquerade then? I heard there was going to be a Hogwarts masquerade!"

Severus hid his amusement behind a tress of black hair.

"My, my – word does get around with you elves. McGonagall has yet to make the announcement."

"Colby told me," she said, mildly abashed.

"Colby?"

Snape soon recalled the laundry elf who volunteered to help Olivia.

"Ah, yes … the one I assigned to Slytherin in your stead. Mm … yes well, if the Ministry should ever want to maximize output, they should place elves in charge of messaging."

Olivia's face became very serious, which only fueled Snape's amusement even more. Every creature had its place and no creature wanted to be reassigned to a lesser task. Messaging was a job for owls!

"To answer your question, Minerva will probably require that all the teachers attend. Now, you said something about breakfast ..."

Olivia motioned towards the door.

"It's waiting in the study," she pointed.

Snape slowly stood and shuffled tiredly into the next room. Olivia followed with a dirty glare. The mail delivery comment really got under her skin. She was an elf!

* * *

It was nearly noon before Hermione stirred. Ginny tried to lure the witch out of bed, but Hermione repeatedly waved her off – saying that she was just tired and wanted to sleep in. Although the redhead was concerned, she did as her friend asked and left her alone. There would be plenty of time to sort things out later.

Red-eyed and bushy haired, Hermione sat up and looked around the room. Her housemates were gone.

"Hopefully, they aren't waiting down stairs." She mumbled.

The witch slid out of bed and stumbled towards the girl's lavatory. After a quick shower, she dried and pinned her frizzy curls into a lazy twist. Frankly, she wasn't overly concerned about appearances that day. Hermione threw on an over-sized sweater, a pair of worn jeans, and trainers. When she was done, she sauntered out of lavatory without even checking her reflection. She simply wanted to be herself – to hell with pretty!

Hermione was sure that everyone in Gryffindor now knew of her and Ron's breakup and it wouldn't be long before the other Houses got wind of it. When that happened, she'd be bombarded with questions and bits of heartfelt advice. She really didn't need that right now. She needed to be alone so she could sort out her feelings. With that in mind, she packed what few snacks she had into her tote, along with some books, and her wand. Afterwards, she took a deep breath and headed to the common room. Hopefully, she'd be able to avoid any undue fuss and make it across the grounds without being seen.

* * *

Adrianna's head bounced violently as Goyle pounded her from behind. He was giving her a cold, hard pummeling after her dismissive treatment of him that week. Beads of sweat dripped off his nose as he tried to batter her pussy into jelly. Adrianna howled each time the wizard struck her cervix. Although she enjoyed rough sex, she didn't particularly like his technique. Clearly, he intended to fuck her brains out that morning.

Jerking back and forth, the witch focused on the clock. It was getting late and she didn't want to miss midday meal. Undoubtedly, there would be talk of the banquet. No, she wasn't excited about the event, having attended far grander parties in her time, but perhaps she'd get lucky and Snape would be assigned to serve with her on the committee. She hadn't given up on the snarky wizard. She couldn't. He was too important.

Gregory began to lose momentum. He'd been hard-fucking the witch for more than twenty minutes and was beginning to cramp.

"Crap!" he hissed, fighting off the terrible burn in his thighs.

Adrianna sensed the wizard was close to coming and coaxed him along. She needed him to hurry if she was going to make it to lunch on time. Seconds later, he collapsed inside the witch, spewing his release in spurts. As he unloaded, he let out a string of whore-like insults, which Adrianna kindly ignored.

"Are you finished?" she coldly asked moments later.

Panting, the wizard vacated her cavity and dismounted. Torres quickly slid off the bed and into her knickers. She didn't so much as offer her lover a glance as she dressed.

"Now for my information, Mister Goyle – when is Malfoy planning to see his father?"

Exhausted, the wizard rolled over and sighed. She'd probably kick him out once he told her everything, but that was the nature of their relationship – sex for news. Maybe next time he'd request a buggering. He'd love to slip his cock into her wonderfully plump bottom and make her woof. Since Adrianna was a woman of the world, it was doubtful she'd whine as much as the last woman he did that too.

"Draco tried to break away last night, but Snape stopped him," Goyle said.

Adrianna's face drew up.

"Last night? Of all the stupid things!" she hissed. "He should have known better! Teachers, especially Snape, are always patrol on the weekends. Why didn't he inform me? I could have covered for him."

"I guess he didn't want your help," he replied.

Torres's eyes became hot, but not with lust.

"Is that so? Well, he needn't be so high and mighty! When I inform my Mistress of his sloppy antics, she won't be happy. Without her help, Lucius won't stand a chance on the outside."

"You can't tell him I told you," Gregory said hurriedly. "I need him to trust me."

Torres had no intention on telling him anything. For now, she needed Malfoy to trust him.

"Of course, but you should try to talk some sense into the boy. You may start by reminding him that if it wasn't for my contacts, he wouldn't get within a mile of Azkaban!"

"I'll do what I can," said the wizard, but he was doubtful that Draco would listen.

"Good, now get dressed," she told him, throwing the young man his clothes. "I'm late enough as it is."

Goyle made quick work of putting his trousers and shoes on. Afterward, held out his arms and stepped forward.

Torres circled away.

"I just want a hug."

A look of disgust flashed in the witch's eyes.

"We've concluded our business. Now go," she said, waving him off.

Gregory lowered his arms and turned away. To say he felt rejected was putting it mildly.

"When may I see you again?" he asked, stopping at the door.

Torres refrained from rolling her eyes. The young man was becoming too attached.

"I'll let you know," she replied. "Good day, Mister Goyle."

* * *

Olivia was making her rounds when she saw Goyle exit the Professor's quarters. She recognized the wizard immediately and ducked into a nearby crevice. Olivia snagged a glimpse of his profile as the wizard marched by. He appeared annoyed, sweaty, and tired. She didn't care to speculate why. She was just glad that he hadn't spotted her. He might be tempted to make good on his promise!

Once it was safe, Olivia moved out of the doorway and resumed her duties. She had several more loads to pick up before heading back downstairs. As she neared her destination, Adrianna's door flung open.

"Good afternoon, Professor Torres," Olivia said merrily. "Olivia is here to pick up your laundry."

Adrianna flinched. She wasn't expecting to see anyone, but thankfully, it was just an elf.

"You're late!" She snapped, trying to conceal her alarm.

"Yes, Ma'am – Olivia was busy helping another Professor."

"I really don't care. My laundry is in the lavatory. You may go in, but I must insist that you restrict your search to the bathroom."

"Olivia does as the Professor says," she politely replied.

Torres offered the creature a disdainful glance. If the servant touched her things, she would meet a mysterious and painful end. Adrianna didn't think much of elves, especially Hogwarts's elves. They were much too haughty.

"See that you do," she said, walking away.

Bowing, Olivia observed the witch until she was gone then pushed inside.

"Like you have anything Olivia wants," she snorted.

* * *

Hermione reached the hilltop overlooking the lake and smiled. Everything as far as the eye could see was void of students. She navigated the slope down a path of rocks that led to the shore. Few students ever traveled to the lake in the fall and if they did, they seldom came that way. If her luck held out, she'd be able to spend the rest of her afternoon in relative peace.

Hermione quickly found a spot and hunkered down. It was a cool, but gorgeous afternoon – hardly any wind and the sky was perfectly clear. As she was rummaging through her tote for a snack, she came across Snape's medical record. The file was buried and forgotten at the bottom of her spatially enhanced bag. The Gryffindor slowly pulled out the folder and thought to herself, _I could use a distraction ..._

"I'll just spend my day with you, Professor," she said, delving into its pages.


	25. By the Lakeshore

Hermione dressed warmly that day, but it wasn't enough. It seemed that her over-sized sweater couldn't protect her against the mounting breeze and fog that had moved in. A gloomy overcast had settled over the mountains, making it feel less like sparkling autumn and more like dreaded winter. The change in weather did nothing to lift her spirits. If anything, she went from feeling mildly renewed to deeply depressed in a matter of hours.

_It's getting dark ... _she thought, looking up.

Shivering, Hermione stood up and rubbed her arms. She would need heat and light if she wanted to stay. After gathering some wood, she fashioned a small circle of rocks near the water. The stones would help retain the heat and keep the fire from spreading. She layered the small sticks and larger branches, then lit the brush beneath. It took several tries, but a short time later she had a cozy fire to warm her hands and feet.

"That will do," said the witch, smiling a bit.

Hermione knew she ought to go back to the castle. She wasn't supposed to be out there, but things like curfew and house points didn't seem all that important anymore. Although she took her studies very seriously, she had experienced life on her own with Harry and Ron. She was an adult. Even Ginny making Head Girl no longer bothered her. Why should it? She and the others were only there because the school governors had made an exception.

"Ginny deserves it," she admitted.

Sitting there, her mind began to drift. She spent the better part of the afternoon engrossed in Snape's medical journal, which turned out to be a harsher read the second go around. This time she wasn't focused on his miraculous recovery, but his rather his death. Hermione was certain the wizard she left behind was no more. She and Harry saw the life bleed from his eyes. How could they have been so wrong? Why didn't she check?

_Because we thought he was a murderous traitor who deserved to die ..._ the witch thought, recalling her unarticulated feelings at the time.

Hermione was deeply ashamed herself. They didn't know, but they should have known better. Dumbledore always trusted Snape.

"I should have known something wasn't right," she said remorsefully.

"Pray tell. What does the insufferable, know-it-all _not_ know?" a voice mocked.

Hermione felt her heart skip two beats. She didn't have to turn around to know whose silky, tenor voice that belonged too. She didn't have to answer the question either, but she was a little embarrassed that he had caught her talking to herself.

"Ahem ... it's not important," she blushed.

Snape slithered into the Gryffindor's line of sight and looked down. Smirking, he studied her small fire and even smaller expression over an exaggerated pause. He knew she was nervous. Adult or not, wandering the grounds so late without permission was worth quite a few points. Little did Snape realize that Hermione didn't care about the points. She was, however, uneasy.

"Good evening, Miss Granger. Might I ask what you're you doing here?" he paused, allowing her a chance to explain.

Hermione thought for a moment.

"Meditating," she answered, faking a smile.

It was a lie. He knew it was a lie, but she got a little credit for originality.

"Meditating? Well, that's a first."

"I'm not doing anything wrong, sir. According to Article 7, Section 9 of the Hogwarts Unilateral Code, seniors are permitted to explore the castle grounds and forest during, whether for study or personal use," she exasperated.

The recitation left Hermione feeling much like the know-it-all of yesteryear and as far as Snape was concerned, she was right on the mark.

"You're forgetting, _Grange_r ... that privilege only applies during the day! It's almost nightfall. And what does the rule book say about that?"

The Professor studied the witch. She hesitated, seemingly confused.

"Professor, please ... I don't want to bicker. You know the rules better than anyone. Seniors are allowed to move freely so long as they're back by curfew," she finally answered. "But it's not curfew and it's not dark. Now that you're here, me being here is perfectly acceptable. We'll leave whenever you're ready, sir."

Snape's expression made the rounds before it settled on a familiar, thin-lipped scowl. Maybe he should've waited until dark before approaching. She was sparsely correct after all. Had he waited another twenty minutes, he'd have a stronger case, but her defense was enough that she could fight if she wanted too.

Bored, he glanced around.

"What's all that?" he asked, pointing towards the folder and books at her side.

Hermione's eyes rounded when she recalled his medical file. She hadn't put it back yet.

"Nothing," she said hurriedly. "Just a bit of this and that ..."

Hermione grabbed the items and threw them back into her bag. Snape's face twisted with confusion, then suspicion.

"Somehow, I doubt that. What's in the bag, Miss Granger? What are you hiding?"

"It's nothing that would interest you, Professor … just a few magazines, books, journal entries ..." said Hermione, pausing to collect on an idea. "Like I said, it's nothing but if you're interested, I will loan you what I have. Maybe you'd like to read the latest edition of Witch Weekly?"

_I'd rather decorate my office pink …_

"No, thank you. I didn't come here to read," he dully replied. "Frankly, I don't see how anyone could concentrate with so many sounds and distractions."

Hermione took out two apples and offered one to Snape. He refused with a head shake.

"It was nice earlier, warmer too. I don't find it very distracting at all. In fact, it's rather soothing," she answered, taking a bite. "Especially the water."

"Perfect for _mediating_, I suppose."

"Exactly."

Severus was tempted to ask more, but feared the egghead might try to lure him into a discussion about something she read. As much as he loved knowledge, he wasn't in that frame of mind.

"What brings you this way, Professor?"

"I was walking."

"I didn't realize that your patrols brought you out this far," said Hermione, taking another robust bite of her apple.

Snape's nostrils curled into a faint sneer.

_I'm not an elf, you daft girl. I'm not here for the sole purpose of serving,_ he thought.

"Granger, is something wrong with your hearing? I didn't say I was patrolling. I said I was walking. Professors enjoy a bit of leisure time on occasion, rare as it may be."

Hermione responded with a sideways glance that said, 'I guess you're entitled'. Snape ignored the witch and turned towards the fire. It was a small fire, but a handsome one. It possessed all the elements of a long burn; thick wood, thin branches, and brush for kindling.

"This is a well made fire," he said, steering the conversation. "If such a subject existed, I would award you an ... _E_."

The Potions Master was trying to pay the witch a compliment. He just didn't want the compliment to go to her head.

"Um, thanks."

_An 'E'?_

"Granger, if I may be so bold, what has your mind in such a pickle that you felt the need to venture out here?" he asked in spite of himself.

Hermione's hearty chew came to a gradual halt. She slowly looked over to find Snape looking every which way, but hers. He seemed oddly fascinated by the choppy water, dark skies, and damp wind. Yes, he had his fair share of secluded getaways, but as far as he knew, he was the only one who enjoyed them. Everyone else seemed to prefer chat to solitude and warmth to wind. Then again, the day hadn't started out ghastly. The sun was out until mid-afternoon.

"You mean you haven't heard?" Hermione asked.

Snape slowly turned around and scowled down.

"Heard what?"

Hermione couldn't be sure if Snape was feigning ignorance or sincerely unaware, but she hoped he wasn't toying with her. She couldn't handle his venomous sarcasm right now.

"Ron and I split up last night. I caught him cheating on me with Lavender Brown."

The wizard's eyes flickered. He wasn't the least bit interested in her tragedy, but her candor came as a surprise. It was an awfully personal admission. As a rule, he didn't 'do' personal.

"I see," he replied.

His tone was deadpan, neither cruel nor comforting. Hermione quickly sensed that he didn't know anything. She also detected his unwillingness to know more. Not that she blamed him of course, but she needed an objective presence ... even if it was the Head of Slytherin and not a friend.

"I'm guessing that this is news to you? How strange. I always thought that teachers gossiped."

Severus rewarded her observation with a loud scoff.

"It may surprise you to learn that 'we' teachers are not the least bit intrigued by the student's personal sagas! Every day someone is humiliated, a heart is broken, and yet the theater of life goes on. Frankly, your little angst problems have very little value and/or substance! If I am _very_ lucky, I will continue to remain oblivious to it all."

Frowning, Hermione's face worked out her thoughts.

_Angst problems?_

As it turned out, news of the breakup blew through Hogwarts like a twister. Hermione catching Ron with Lavender was the topic at breakfast and lunch. And yes, many of the teachers overheard what happened and were gossiping about it, but not all of them. Snape seldom entertained gossip. Moreover, he hadn't been present.

"I hadn't thought of it that way," she said coloring.

Hermione sat up and moved closer to the fire. The temperature was dropping. It was going to be a cold night. She didn't want to be alone, but maybe Snape wasn't the best person to be around right now.

Severus glanced back at the castle. He had nothing waiting for him up there, but a few papers and dinner. Unfortunately, life after Lily, Potter, and Voldemort was proving to be very tedious. He never counted on surviving his mistakes, which meant he had no ambition beyond making an amends. It was then that Severus sorely wished he had a hobby, something idle but functional, like painting. Maybe then he wouldn't be considering what he was considering. Impetuosity was not his specialty and rejection was his Achilles heel, but something told him to stay. There was something about the fire and lake shore that made him want to take a chance. Snape turned towards the witch. She appeared absorbed in the fire, completely entranced by the hypnotic flames. Either that or she was waiting for him to make her leave.

"Miss Granger," he nobly began. "I realize that it's getting cold and that we should head back, but if you don't mind ... I'd like to sit for a spell."

Hermione eyes reacted before her mouth.

"Me? You want to sit with me?" she said disbelievingly.

Snape wasn't sure how to construe her response.

"Of course, if you'd rather go," he said stiffly. "I understand."

Hermione's heart melted when she snagged a glimpse of disappointment in his eyes. He hid it well, but it was there. Like a stray animal waiting for the door to close.

"I don't mind at all, Professor," she smilingly said. "Please sit ..."

Nodding, Snape made his way around the campfire and seated himself opposite of the Gryffindor. Although he tried not to show it, he looked and felt awkward about being there with her. He didn't know what he was doing or why he was doing it. He just knew that he wasn't ready to return to the castle. Still stunned, the witch waited for the Professor to say something.

"Granger … you never answered my question. What are you doing out here? Surely, there are warmer places to mourn Mister Weasley. "

"I'm not mourning him," the witch corrected. "I just didn't want to be bombarded with sympathy and questions."

"And naturally you assumed that everyone wants a piece of you," he smirked.

"Professor, surely you remember what it was like as a student! Hogwarts is a community and communities have nosy helpers who want to nose around more than help!"

"I see. So you're worried about what everyone thinks. Is that what you're saying?"

"No, but I am well known – even more, now that the war is over. I just don't want their pity. That's all!"

Severus did understand the pressures of school life, particularly young drama. She had better get used to telling people to bugger off if she wanted it to stop.

"What happened with Mr. Weasley?" he asked, unsure whether he wanted to know.

Hermione leaned forward. She wasn't terrible cold. She just wanted to see his face. It wasn't like him to be interested.

Snape observed the Gryffindor with a glint and a smirk. "Well?" he pried.

"May I have your word, sir, that you will keep whatever I tell you in the strictest confidence?" she asked, hoping he didn't bite her head off.

Seconds passed before Snape broke Hermione's train-of-worry with a chuckle. Her jaw literally dropped.

"Miss Granger …" he said slowly. "Didn't you just say that everyone is talking about it?"

Hermione's cheeks brightened. He was right of course. What difference did it make?

Now genuinely curious, Snape adjusted himself and motioned for the young woman to continue. He didn't expect much more than a sob story, but it was worth his interest to know. Had she been sorted into Slytherin, she would have hexed the boy and been the better for it, but Gryffindors were victims.

"Are you going to tell me or should I guess?" he soon asked, glaring through the flames.

* * *

Lavender and Ron entered the Great Hall draped in each other's arms. Many of the students stopped what they were doing to acknowledge the new couple as they passed. Lavender walked slowly and adoringly at her new beau's side, alternating between sweet nibbles and grand hellos. Ginny and Harry shot the couple an incredulous look as they took their seats. They had the nerve to sit next to them!

"Harry," the wizard said, laughing as he said it.

Lavender was nibbling on his ear.

"Not now," Ron said gently.

"Ron, what's _'she'_ doing here?" Harry angrily asked. "And why is she sitting in Hermione's seat?"

"Be fair! Hermione is off somewhere. Do you think we'd be sitting here if she was around? C'mon, even I'm not that insensitive."

"No, you're a complete git!" Ginny spat. "And you, Lavender, are a complete slut!"

Stunned, Lavender looked indignantly across the table. It would be unwise to say anything. Ginny was his sister after all. For the sake of family harmony, she had better play it cool.

"Watch your mouth, Gin!" Ron hissed in Lavender's defense. "She is a sweet and loving person."

"Strong emphasis on the _loving_," Ginny sneered.

Before he could respond, Harry interrupted.

"Listen, Ron … maybe now isn't the time to flaunt your new girl. I mean … Hermione just busted you guys making out last night! How would she feel if she walked in here right now and caught us sitting together?"

"Betrayed!" Ginny interjected. "That's how I would feel!"

Ron ignored his sister.

"Harry, she'll get over it. You'll see. Hermione and I weren't meant to be together. She's been ignoring me for months now. Bloody hell, if you want to be honest, she's been ignoring me for years! I need someone who appreciates me. Lavender appreciates me. Can't you be happy for us?"

"Mom and Dad are going to flip when they find out. I do hope you plan to tell them before bringing HER home!"

Lavender frowned.

"Ginny, that's enough! Don't talk to Lavender that way!" Ron growled.

"It's okay, Won-Won. She doesn't understand how much I love you."

Both, Harry and Ginny looked like they were going to vomit. Had he lost his mind? Did the witch slip him a bottle of Amortentia or something? Yes, she was pretty. And yes, she was his ex-girlfriend, but it took Hermione years to admit she had feelings for him! Was he really going to throw that away over a woman who calls him, Won-Won and nibbles on his ear in public?

Some of the nosier teachers observed the heated exchange enthusiastically. Adrianna was among them. She watched triumphantly from her lofty position as the argument came to a head.

_Divide and conquer … _she thought.

"_Won_, why don't you and your new girl go find someplace else to sit. I don't want Hermione getting the wrong impression."

"And what impression is that?!"

Harry shook his head. Was his friend really that thick?

"I don't want her to think that we knew anything about this or that we approve of what you did!"

"Yeah, Ron – beat it! And take your boyfriend-stealing, piece of fluff with you!" Ginny added.

Ron suddenly noticed the clashing of forks and voices had stopped. The Gryffindor table and surrounding parties were waiting for him to respond. In some small way, the new found attention made the wizard feel important. Ron looked between his best friend and sister.

"Sure thing," he said, rising to his feet.

The teachers and neighboring tables looked on as Lavender proudly took her beau's arm again. Just as they were preparing to move down the aisle, Lavender stopped and looked back.

"Oh, and Ginny …"

"Yeah, what."

"You can't steal the willing," she smiled.

* * *

By the time Hermione finished regaling what happened, several tears had shed. No, she wasn't sobbing, but it was embarrassing nonetheless.

"Not exactly what you bargained for, aye Professor?" she jokingly sniffed as she wiped her face.

The corners of Snape's mouth twitched. It was the first time he had moved since the story began.

"Not exactly," he agreed.

Frankly, he expected something more dramatic, an embellished version of events, which left the witch smelling like a rose. However, what he got was a laundry list of comparative deeds. The blame seemed evenly assigned. Granger even admitted that she pushed the wizard away by refusing to let him in. Not that the redhead would have understood her mind anyway. No matter how much the witch tried to justify what happened, the betrayal lay squarely on Weasley's shoulders. Could she not see that?

Snape had assumed the couple's quarrel was based on jealousy and like most young lovers, that emotion had been criminalized and blown out of proportion. But that wasn't the case at all. Although Weasley had behaved deplorably, Severus didn't feel sorry for Granger. He didn't feel sorry for anyone, but he no longer felt her problem was frivolous, which was an enormous concession on his part.

"Heartbreak is one of life's lessons," said Snape, admiring the dying flames. "It sharpens the mind and the senses. Without it, we'd be vulnerable. You're in a much better place than you realize, Miss Granger – you're free."

Sniffing, Hermione considered the Professor advice as she adjusted her position. Laying down, she rested towards the fire looking lazily into its branches. Her lax demeanor made the wizard wonder if their "togetherness" wasn't bordering on something inappropriate. He wasn't her Head of House after all. She had no real business being out there alone with him. Snape was tempted to tell the witch to sit up, but he had no desire to ruin the moment. Instead, he discreetly examined their surroundings for onlookers, while feigning ease.

"I've never heard that, Professor."

"I'm shocked. They don't teach that in Gryffindor?"

Hermione smiled.

"No. They try to instill love, loyalty, and respect. Those are our survival tools."

"Respect?!" Snape hissed, instantly recalling James and Sirius."What a load of crap! If that's so, they must teach the boys separately!"

Hermione laughed. She assumed he was referring to Harry. Honestly, he had been a tad disrespectful over the years. Hermione's laugh helped to calm the Professor, though he hadn't tried to make her laugh.

"Regardless, it's true. Heartbreak is a motivator. It drives us to excel and fortifies our minds. In short, it is a blessing disguised as turmoil," he explained.

Hermione wanted to be polite, considering Snape was being so tolerable, but she didn't buy it. Only a Slytherin would see an opportunity in something so ugly.

"Thank you, Professor. I'll keep that in mind," she told him.

Severus knew the witch was patronizing him, but he was willing to let it go. It was sound advice. She'd come to see that in time. Thinking to himself, he gazed solemnly into the flames. His heavy, oiled tresses thinly decorated his line of sight as the wind altered its flow.

_Why do Gryffindor women cling to the hope of a Camelot romance?_

"What do you intend to do after you graduate?" he asked, deliberately changing the subject.

"I would like to work for the Ministry," Hermione replied. "The legal department, I think."

The witch couldn't have picked a more uninspiring answer.

"Yes, of course. I should have guessed."

The wizard wasn't impressed and it showed. Naturally, the student in Hermione felt compelled to give him a better answer.

"I want to fight for the rights of squibs and muggleborns – to improve their quality of life!"

Snape's bored expression shifted slightly.

"That sounds more like the Granger, I know." he said, pausing to think. "But I am curious ... why squibs?"

"Squibs are terribly mistreated, Professor. They're underemployed, neglected, discriminated against ... most still regard them as magical lepers! They should be allowed the same advantages and opportunities as anyone else in our world."

Snape didn't disagree on any particular point. He just wasn't sure if the Wizarding World could handle a squib-uprising right now. He still recalled the stink she made about the House Elves a few years back. Many of the workers were still weary of the witch. Thankfully, Granger had the rest of the term to consider her options.

"Well?" she prodded.

"Well what?"

"Do you agree?"

"I'm not sure that I understand the question, Granger. Are you asking me if I agree with your assessment or your choice?"

"Both, I guess."

"As far as reform goes … somewhat, but I'm not sure if the world is ready to have its eyes peeled opened by the likes of you! And while we're on the subject, what about all the other magical beings out there? What about giants, Centaurs, and fairies. Are you going to fight for their rights too?"

"Well, I …" she began.

When she didn't continue, Snape volunteered.

"You're still young. You need to experience the world before you start changing it. As for your choice in career, it's your life but frankly, I always imagined you doing something magical ... perhaps something with charms."

"Helping people is magical," Hermione countered.

Snape made a face. Gryffindor nobility was a tad nauseating at times.

"And I'm experienced," she added seconds later.

"Is that so?" he snorted. "Am I to believe that you've had your fill of worldly delights and that you're now ready to start a revolution? Hasten to hell the cost?"

Hermione blushed. Did she really sound that childish? And what did he mean by worldly delights?

"Ahem, no … I mean, yes … well, that depends on your definition of revolution. I've experienced things, lots of things ... enough to know what I want to do with my life. That being said, no one can accuse me of being naïve! I have witnessed enough horrors to know what exists."

*Silence*

Snape conceded with a nod. Perhaps, she wasn't interested in a Camelot romance. Maybe she fancied recreating Camelot? The real world would change her soon enough. There was no need to say anymore. He only wished he could be around to see her fail.

Moments later, Hermione glanced over and saw that the Professor was still smiling. It was a ghost of a grin, but it was still there – taunting her, reducing her to a little girl, a naïve young woman that didn't know squat about squat.

"Professor McGonagall would faint if she saw you right now!" she said, trying to pass her annoyance off as humor.

Snape willed his face into something more characteristic. It wouldn't do for someone else to catch him grinning like a jackal. He just never imagined his night would end like this – sitting by a fire, near the lake, with a student who turned out to be a reasonably entertaining host. Now that he thought about, he was actually having a good time.

"Professor …"

Snape looked up.

"Why is that you never married?"

"That is arguably the worst question I've ever been asked," he quickly answered. "Obviously, I never wanted too!"

"Sorry. I'm just trying to decide if marriage is even necessary."

"As far as I'm concerned, it isn't. I never married because I have no desire to make anyone, namely myself, miserable. Marriage is for people who lack vision. Do you lack vision, Miss Granger?"

"No, of course not ..." she answered, clearing her throat.

"Then it's a pointless discussion," he told her.

Hermione wanted to ask him about the woman Harry talked about, if _she_ was his vision, but she didn't have the nerve. She feared he might blow up and want to leave. Hard as it was too admit, she was actually enjoying his company – snarky attitude and all. There was just something reassuring about his presence, something safe.

*Minutes Later*

"I would have married, Ron," she needlessly announced.

"I'm sure that's true. I'm equally sure that you would have been miserable together and lived miserably ever after."

"We would have been happy!" Hermione insisted.

"Granger …" he moaned, cuffing the bridge of his nose.

He hoped that they were passed that segment of the conversation. Obviously, they were not.

"I mean … if it wasn't for Lavender, it would have worked." She corrected.

Severus threw down his hand and reached for a stick. It was time to stir the embers.

"Do we have any more wood?" he asked.

Hermione looked around.

"I used the last of it thirty minutes ago. I'll go get more," she offered, standing up.

"That won't be necessary. It's getting late and you haven't had very much to eat. We should return to the castle."

"No, please ..." Hermione hurried to say, surprising the wizard. "I'm not ready to leave. Besides, I'm not hungry! Just wait here and I'll get more wood. Unless … you have other plans?"

Severus could see the witch was desperate to stay and to be honest, he didn't want to go either.

"Haven't you grown tired of my company yet?" he pried, searching for a sign through the black curtain obstructing his view.

"Actually, I'm glad you found me. I've really enjoyed having you around. Frankly, sir, I had no idea that Slytherins could be so charming!" She joked.

Snape lowered his eyes and tended to the fire, but his uneasiness did not go amiss. She must have embarrassed him.

"Let's not talk about Ron anymore, okay? In fact, let's not talk about anything personal. Once I get back, we can talk about whatever you like or not at all, if you prefer."

Severus blinked. Hermione Granger was giving up the reigns? This he had to see.

"Hurry up," he said quietly, not looking up. "The fire is dying."


	26. Catfight!

Hermione was on her way to Flitwick's class when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

"Hermione, wait!" said Harry. "I need to talk to you!"

Hermione glanced over her shoulder and slowed down, giving him enough time to catch up.

"Ginny and I haven't seen you in days. Where have you been?"

"I've been busy ... you know me."

"Uh, huh … well, Gin said you weren't in your room yesterday or this morning."

"As I said, I've been busy. The teachers have been piling on the homework this term! I'm grateful McGonagall allowed me to take my NEWTS, rather than Defence this term, or I might have to stay another year! I have to transfigure this and brew that; cast this and calculate that. Harry, I have a parchment of notes at least a kilometer thick and - -"

"Er, yeah, that's great Hermione," the wizard interrupted. "I'm sure you're having a blast but that's not why Ginny and I haven't seen you, and you know it. Are you even eating?"

"I eat."

"I had to ask. We haven't seen you in the Great Hall since Saturday. Not only that, but you haven't been taking any of your usual routes. And you haven't been spending any time in the common room, or library. Why are you avoiding everyone?"

"I told you, Harry. I've been busy."

Harry narrowed his eyes and glared at the witch, but she refused to look over. Her story was crap. He knew the witch was upset, with good reason, but shutting herself out like this wasn't helping and it wasn't healthy.

"Come on, Hermione … nobody is that busy. I mean, I get Ron but why are you avoiding Ginny and I?"

"Why do you think?"

Harry clenched his jaw and frowned. "We didn't know about Ron, I swear! No one did! Ginny and I were shocked when we found out," he confessed.

Hermione scoffed. How could he not know? He was Ron's best friend.

"I'm dead serious! We didn't know! Nor did we suspect anything! Honestly, we never thought your problems were that bad …"

"We had problems?" she said curiously.

"Er… everyone has problems," the wizard shrugged. "Setting aside the cease fire, on fire, and fire-at-will moments, you really didn't talk, or laugh, or spend any time together."

Admittedly, Harry had a point. She and Ron weren't exactly stable. It was difficult to go from arguing with each other on a daily basis to hugs and kisses.

"I'm just sorry that Gin and I didn't see it."

"It's okay, Harry," Hermione said.

"It's not okay! Ron was a complete tool for doing what he did and I told him as much!"

Hermione wasn't angry with Harry or Ginny. It just felt awkward being near them. After a few teary nights, she decided that Ron wasn't worth the trouble. She had her whole life ahead of her and what happened with Lavender was just one of those lessons in life. _Love stinks and heartbreak empowers. _

"Thanks for sticking up for me and I'm sorry for being so distant, but I can't be around Ron right now and if I'm around the gang, he'll appear sooner or later. I can't ask you to stop being his best friend anymore than I can ask Ginny to stop being his sister."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you shouldn't worry about me. I'll be fine. I have my studies to keep me busy."

Harry could see that she was just playing the part; saying what she thought she ought too. Still, she was right. Ron was a permanent factor in their lives. Though he deserved a quaffle to the head for what he did, Harry couldn't keep ignoring him or his chit girlfriend. He could give them the cold shoulder for a while, but eventually Ron would work his way back in. Despite everything, he was still Harry's best mate and Ginny's brother - but Lavender? The mere thought of being friends with her made him feel like a sellout.

"Let me see if I have this straight. Do you expect us to pretend that Ron isn't a total prick for cheating on you?"

"No. I'm just saying that I'm an adult and I can clean up my own messes. Ron is my mess. Don't alienate him, please? If you do, it'll only cause problems for you with Ginny later down the road."

Harry reached out and grabbed Hermione's wrist, forcing her to stop. Hermione wheeled around, slightly misty-eyed but no worse for wear. It was obvious that she was being sincere. Harry wasn't sure what to say, but he wanted her know that he and Gin were on her side.

"I told Ron not to sit with us. You can at least have meals with us until this blows over," he told her.

"Thanks … but I've been dieting," said Hermione, patting her hips for emphasis. She was hardly fat but it was easy to see she was becoming more of a woman every day.

Harry just rolled his eyes. _Witches and their weight,_ he thought.

"I need to run or I'll be late to Professor Torres's class. Listen, do you think we can talk later?"

Hermione nodded.

"Sure. I'll be under the Great Oak after lunch - just don't bring Ginny, okay?"

"Why?" the wizard asked.

"It's just weird, that's all ..."

"Fine. I'll come alone. Look, I better go. I'll see you later!"

The wizard shot down one of the dividing corridors into the courtyard.

Suddenly, Hermione had a thought.

"Harry," she called.

"Yeah," he said, looking back.

"How do you like Professor Torres's class?"

Harry crinkled nose. Maybe it was the timing of the question, but something about it seemed off.

"It's okay … why?"

"What does she teach exactly?" she pressed, not answering.

_100 different ways for a wizard to hide a hard on,_ Harry replied in his mind.

"Um .. the usual, I guess. Today, we're personalizing shield spells."

"Will you do me a favor?"

"Anything, so long as you let me go!" he laughed.

"Watch her … watch her closely." Hermione said warningly.

Amused but confused, Harry shot the witch a ? smile. He knew she didn't like Torres, none of the witches did, but he also knew Hermione well enough to take her seriously when she asked.

"Um, yeah okay. What am I supposed to watch out for?"

"I'm not sure, just watch her," said Hermione.

* * *

"Good morning, Professor," Torres said prettily.

Severus slowly looked up. His expression ran through a series of quick contortions before settling on something more stoic. He was neither pleased nor displeased to see the witch, merely put off by her presence. What was she doing in his classroom?

The male students flipped their heads around to get a better look of the alluring, Spanish rose as she sashayed to the head of the classroom.

"Good morning," Snape calmly replied. "What may I do for you?"

The witch's eyes lit up, suggestively of course.

"Oh, I was wandering if you might have some dreamless drought on hand."

Snape's eyes cut across the classroom. He met the student's intrigue with a 'mine your own business' glance.

"It's morning," he dryly pointed out.

"Tut, tut, now Severus, don't be that way," she chortled. "It's for later. I haven't been sleeping well. Nightmares and such."

No one would have imagined it possible, but the wizard's face became even less amused. "Did Madam Pomfrey run out?" he quipped.

"Poppy was busy," she answered.

"And I'm not?"

Torres's smile faltered. This wasn't go at all the way she planned.

"Ahem, forgive me … I just thought …"

Snape's breath and eyes remained still, completely unaffected by her nervousness. It was easy to see that she had a different idea of how this scenario was suppose to play out.

"I thought you'd be willing to assist me … considering that - -"

"Considering what?" he snorted.

He certainly hoped she wasn't referring to their 'once-around' attraction. If so, he might have to let her hold it; students be damned.

"Considering that we work together," Torres finished.

Snape's face changed.

She wasn't big on patience, but life had taught her the value of it in spite of it.

Adrian lifted her chin. "But if I've disturbed you. I'll come back another time," she told him.

"Wait ..." he quietly conceded.

Severus turned and billowed into his store. He searched his shelves until he came upon a bottle of dreamless drought. He had no desire to help the witch, but every desire rid himself of her as painlessly as possible. He really didn't care if his students thought he was a git; he was, but he didn't want or need Minerva on his back.

Snape reappeared moments later. "Here," he said, practically shoving the bottle into her hand. "This should hold you until the nurse is free."

"Thank you," she said.

When it looked as if the witch wasn't going to leave, the wizard became impatient. _What now?_

"Torres, if you don't mind ..." he said, gesturing towards his students.

"Oh, of course! I was just leaving, but may we talk later? It's about the –"she said, glancing back at the class. "… festivities," she carefully finished.

Snape had a sneaky suspicion the banquet idea was going to come back and haunt him and sure enough, he was right.

"What about it?"

Torres rolled her shoulders. Obviously, she didn't want to say what she had to say in front of the class, which gave him an edge. He didn't give a rat's arse if he blew McGonagall's announcement. The witch should have picked a better place and time to talk to him. If the news broke, he could always say it was Torres's fault for bringing it up.

"We'll talk later, say noon?"

"Professor …"

"Please, just for a short while. I'll meet you in the courtyard."

Snape observed the witch with an icy glare.

"Fine, don't be late," he told her.

Grinning, the witch marched out of Potions, followed by the male students's eyes on her luscious hind quarters. Snape observed their reaction, but as a matter of principle, made no effort to chastise them; not even the Gryffindors.

_Let them stare,_ he thought.

* * *

Lunch arrived, but Hermione was not among those hurrying towards the Great Hall; instead, she headed to the great oak with her picnic bag firmly in hand. It was too chilly for a picnic, but that didn't sway the witch. If anything, it meant that she and Harry didn't have to worry about company.

The Gryffindor settled under the tree and waited for her friend. She knew he'd show, but she couldn't be sure when, so she kept an eye on the main doors. Honestly, this was a scary time for her because for the first time since she was eleven, she felt separated. She was becoming used to the idea of eating, walking, and studying alone every day, but she missed her friends – especially, Harry and Gin.

"Sorry I'm late. I was stopped in the hall," said Harry from behind, surprising the witch. He quickly plopped down on the ground and stretched his legs. "Got something in there for me?" he asked, eyeing her bag wantonly.

Hermione handed him the goodies. "It's just some sandwiches and drinks, nothing fancy." She told him.

"Mm – you know, they're serving meatloaf today …" he jokingly sneered.

Hermione reached for the bag, but Harry yanked it away. "No – no, this is fine," he laughed.

Harry browsed through the bag and took out a sandwich and some corn wafers. "Nice spot," he said, tossing the bag to the witch. "But it's a little … burrrr … chilly, don't you think?"

Hermione removed her wand and placed a warming charm on the wizard, who grinned in appreciation.

"Thanks! What's that one called?"

"Arsenimo," she told him. "Honestly, Harry, haven't you learned the basics yet?"

Harry shrugged.

"Still, learning I guess. So … what did you want to talk to me about?" he pressed, taking a hearty bite of his sandwich.

"It's about, Draco and Torres …"

Harry's brows traveled north. What could they possibly have in common?

"And?"

"I think there may be something going on between them," she delicately answered. To her shock, Harry did not react negatively, not at first anyway.

"No way! Torres and Malfoy?" he quietly hissed. "You've got to be kidding me! She could get sacked!"

"No – um, I didn't mean it like that … they're not … I don't think they're lovers or anything." She promptly corrected. "I think … I think they may be in cahoots with one another. You know … accomplices."

Harry's eyes dulled.

"I think I prefer the sex scandal."

"Harry, be serious."

"I am being serious. Why do you think they're in _cahoots_?"

"Not too long ago, I overheard them talking in the corridor. They seemed familiar with each other, as if they knew each other personally. Anyway, Draco didn't seem to like her very much, but it was clear by the way they were talking that they had some sort of understanding."

"Hermione, that doesn't mean they're up to something. Maybe she knows his father. Imprisoned or not, Lucius Malfoy is pretty well known."

"It's more than that, Harry! Haven't you noticed how strangely everyone has been acting this year?"

Harry fell silent. Yes, he too noticed something awry, but he just assumed everyone was still adjusting to the shell shock of being alive. "But what does that have to do with Malfoy and Torres?" he asked.

"I don't know, but I'm starting feel like it has a lot to do with them!"

"Hermione, come on! I'm no fan of Draco, but I don't think the worst of him either. He's just a rich brat with a bad attitude. As far as Torres, well … I admit, she makes people uncomfortable, especially women. It's only natural for you not to trust her. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn't like her either."

"This isn't a territory or jealousy thing, Harry! I overheard Draco and Torres talking the other day and there was nothing innocent in her tone, nothing!" the affronted witch defended. "Did you know that Draco is taking tutoring lessons from Professor Sweetie? He's our Head of House. Don't tell me you don't find that fishy!"

Harry's brows dropped and furrowed. "What for?" he asked.

"I don't know. The most I got out of Sweetie was that he was pursuing a career in archeology."

"Bullocks! Everyone knows that the Malfoy's don't work. They're rich!"

Hermione beamed in agreement, but her pride was short lived.

"Still ... tutoring lessons? That's hardly a crime. It might help if I knew what they were talking about."

Hermione bit her lip and looked away. She had been thinking a lot of Professor Snape, even more since that night by the lake and the mere thought of Torres trying to seduce him bothered her immensely. Women like that, didn't go for men like him. Hero or not, Snape was no find to the untrained eye.

"Torres was bragging about bedding Snape," she quietly answered.

*Silence*

"Huh?"

"She was bragging about having Professor Snape in her quarters. She planned to seduce him and she was telling Draco about it," she explained, meeting the wizard's bewildered gaze head on.

Harry's reaction wasn't immediate, but it was loud once he got going.

"Torres …" he wheezed. "and ... Snape?"

Hermione folded her arms and fell back against the tree.

"I suppose you think him unworthy?"

Harry laughed for a moment. "Highly improbable is more like it!" he rolled.

Hermione found herself in agreement. They were completely wrong for each other.

"I don't want to come across as mean …" Harry swallowed. "I will never forget what Snape did and the sacrifices he made, but … the idea of Torres and Snape 'together' is too much for my poor little mind to comprehend - sorry, Hermione."

Hermione rolled her eyes. It was useless to talk to Harry right now. She didn't have enough proof and she wasn't willing to have her ideas ridiculed. Maybe she was talking to the wrong person. Still smiling, Harry took several more bites of his sandwich and gazed across the grounds. It wasn't long before he saw something that made him stop chewing.

"Um, why don't we go for a walk?" He said hurriedly.

"Why?"

The wizard hopped to his feet and gallantly offered his hand.

"I just need the exercise, come on!"

Hermione reluctantly accepted it.

"Say, Harry! I've been looking for you," she heard Ron shout. "Ginny didn't know where you were!"

Hermione froze and shot Harry a 'get rid of him look'. Obviously, Ron couldn't see. The tree was blocking his view.

"What are you doing out here?" Ron asked. "It's bloody cold!"

"I was just about to go for a walk ..."

"Oh, right. Well, do you mind if Lavender and I come?"

Something inside Hermione broke. She angrily spun around the tree and into Harry's path. Ron's eyes widened. He hadn't expected to see Hermione there.

"He's with me," she hissed, shocking the new couple.

Lavender opened her mouth to speak, but Ron squeezed her hand as if to say, 'don't'.

"Oh, um … okay. That's fine. We'll talk later," he said, mildly nervous at the prospect of a confrontation with the deserving witch.

"No, honey …" said Lavender, pulling back on his arm. "You came to talk to Harry, so talk."

"It's okay … we can talk later," said Ron, waving his buddy goodbye.

Harry followed his lead.

"Yeah, man, we'll talk later."

Hermione glanced between the wizards. She didn't want to appear like the unreasonable one.

"No. Lavender is right. Talk," she told them.

Both men would soon learn that latent hostility should never be taken lightly when it concerns a scorned witch. However, Lavender read Hermione perfectly and met her phony kindness with a gracious smile. It was time to clip whatever thread of hope still remained between her new beau and his old flame.

"Go ahead, _dear_." She said, pushing Ron forward.

Hermione narrowed her eyes heatedly. Dear?

Ron made his way around what appeared to an invisible land mine. He didn't want to get too close to Hermione, or too far away from his adoring girlfriend. It was obvious the witches were ready to battle; all they needed was a reason, any reason to start firing hexes.

Harry moved a couple a few feet away so he could talk to Ron privately.

"So …" Ron nervously began.

Harry frowned. "You're a foul git, you know that?" he said in a hushed tone.

"Yeah, I know but what's a wizard to do? She loves me." He said, looking back towards the blonde witch proudly standing her ground against his fuming ex-girlfriend. Both witches were itching to make a move.

"Oh, my God … you're enjoying this, aren't you?" Harry scoffed, suddenly realizing that Ron was just happy to be out of the line of fire.

"No! That's mental! How could I possibly enjoy … well, okay … maybe a little," he laughingly admitted.

Harry's face darkened.

"Oh, come on Harry. Haven't you ever wanted to see two women …"

"No, that's pathetic! What's gotten into you?"

"The question is what I am getting into," he winked.

"So, this is all about getting shagged?"

Ron firmed up. "Well, there's oral also! I'm telling you Harry, it's great! Lavender lets me do anything I want. She's so good to me. Just give her a chance. Please?"

"You're disgusting," Harry sneered; however, pass the heroic, golden facade was your typical, randy wizard. Though the wizard's actions disgusted him, his getting action did not.

"We haven't seen you around lately. Where have you been hiding?" Lavender asked, smiling brightly at her loving wizard in the distance.

"Why do you care?" Hermione shot back. "You seem to have everything a slut could possibly want. What interest could you have in little ole me?"

Lavender's smile faded. _Slut?_

"Funny … the way I remember it, you stole Ron away from me," she snorted. "So, I guess you're the slut."

"Maybe he wanted something more tasteful … or _less _tasted? Either way, he went in search of something better," Hermione said venomously.

"Or maybe … he wanted to sow his wild oats, but found the grounds dry and hollow. No man wants to plant his seed in dust. They need fertile ground to till. Granger, you're not tilling material."

Hermione said nothing.

"I heard Finnigan is available?" Lavender playfully offered. "He's a bit short for my liking, but I'm sure you two would get along nicely. Rumor has it, he's a virgin too."

Hermione slowly poised her wand at Lavender's head. The witch's eyes became more serious, but she did not move. Her wand was tucked safely inside her coat but if she drew it, they'd both be in trouble; better to be a victim than the dumbass in detention, or worse.

"Go ahead, hex me …"

"Hermione, stop it! She's unarmed," Harry said in the distance.

Ron took an uneasy step forward. "He's right, Hermione … you can't hex an unarmed student!"

"Do it," Lavender whispered, upping the emotional ante.

"Hermione," Harry said again.

The Gryffindor lowered her arm. Gradually, Lavender's smirk morphed into a full-blown grin. She beat the brain without having to lift a single finger. This changed when she saw the witch draw up and round her wrist. In less time than it takes to scream, Hermione had erected a wall of fire around them.

"Bloody hell!" said Ron, darting towards the flames. Harry was right behind him.

* * *

Snape folded his arms and glared down his nose.

"Get on with it, Torres. What did you want to talk to me about?"

"I was hoping you might accompany me to the Masquerade Banquet ..." Adrian said sweetly.

Severus dropped his arms and intiated a walk. "I don't believe it," he said to himself.

"Well, I don't have an escort for the evening ..." she said, trotting after him. "... and I wouldn't feel right about attending alone ..."

"You're asking me out?" he said disbelievingly.

"Yes, I suppose I am."

Snape stopped and looked around. He appeared to be stalling. Never had a witch invited him anywhere, much less on a date. Sex was one thing. He'd encountered a few drunken witches, a very few, that were interested in him in that way, but never anyone remotely respectable. However, something about this felt strangely desperate. What was her angle? What was she after?

"I don't know what to say."

"Say, yes," she told him, poking his shoulder playfully.

"Why?" he asked.

"Why not? You're dateless. I'm dateless. We make the perfect match."

"I never said …" Severus defended before weakly admitting she had a point. "Professor …"

"Adrian," she corrected.

"Adrian, I …" he swallowed.

This sort of thing just wasn't his cup of tea.

"I …"

"Hermione, stop it! She's unarmed," he heard someone say.

Grateful for any distraction, Snape honed in on the voice. Torres followed his lead and looked back. Across the way, near the Great Oak, they spotted a confrontation unfolding. Granger had her wand trained on Lavender Brown. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were standing several feet away, beckoning the witch to reconsider.

"What in hell blazes is going on over there?" he spat, forgetting his former awkwardness.

Adrian's mouth worked itself into a sneer. This was the second time the Granger girl had disrupted her plans, albeit unintentionally.

"A lover's quarrel, I'm guessing. Let them work it out." She said coldly.

"You don't know what that girl is capable of," he said, making a b-line towards the scene.

Torres quickly filed pursuit.

Meanwhile, not too far away, Malfoy, Parkinson and Goyle were making their way to the Great Hall. When they overheard the commotion and saw Professors Snape and Torres running towards it, they stopped.

"Fight!" Draco shouted, motioning his gang to follow.

* * *

Hermione came down on the witch with both fists. Lavender threw a few sideways slaps but for the most part, concentrated on protecting her face.

"Ron! Help me!" she cried.

"I can't!" he shouted back, now concerned for her safety.

"Are you happy? Is this what you wanted?" Harry snapped.

"Stop them, Harry!"

The former hero whipped out his wand and tried to counter the spell with a Finite Incantatem charm, but it had no effect. He then tried using several variations of the Aguamenti charm, but again, no effect.

"It's not working!" he said.

Hermione swung left, right, high and low. She didn't aim for the witch's face directly, but she hit her everywhere else in between. She was just that angry. Lavender soon crumpled under the attack. Hermione fell on top and continued to beat her soundly.

"Stop right this instant!" Snape bellowed, stopping just short of the fire.

Harry and Ron's eyes were already wide with shock. They only grew wider when Professors Torres and the others appeared. The witches continued to roll around on the ground. Leaves, dirt, and hair were flying everywhere. Snape aimed his wand and tried many of the same spells Harry used, but to his annoyance, none of them worked. After conjuring every hocus pocus he could think of, he stood back and watched, appearing every bit as impotent as the Gryffindors.

"Miss Granger, stop this at once!" he yelled, approaching the flames then backing away for his own good. "I said STOP!"

Hermione didn't hear Snape. She didn't hear anyone. She was too busy kicking Lavender's ass.

"He's only with you because you dropped your knickers for him!" she said, slapping the witch wildly.

Adrian observed the scrap with a mixture of abhorrence and amusement. Draco, Goyle, and Parkinson soon joined the circle of spectators. Seconds after that, a few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs showed up. Within minutes, the fight was surrounded by several curious observers, some of them chanting 'fight! fight! fight!'.

Snape looked away from the brawl. Not once in his tenure, had he ever encountered a female fisticuff of this magnitude. Not once. He didn't know what to do. Then out of desperation, or perhaps concern, he turned to Torres.

"Do you know how to counter the spell?" he lamely asked the DADA Professor.

It just so happened that she did know how to counter it, but she wasn't about too.

_Let the witch fight her way into expulsion,_ she thought.

"No," Torres innocently replied.

Snape removed outer robe and slammed it to the ground. He would have to brave the flame to break up the fight. It was either that, or standby and watch the chits seriously injure themselves.

"What are doing?" asked Torres.

"My job," he hissed.

Goyle observed his Head of House disrobe and Adrian's reaction. He naturally mistook her curiosity for fancy and quickly began to disrobe himself.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Pansy asked, equally if not more stunned than Torres.

Draco shot the witch a disgusted look. Well brought up witches didn't speak that way.

"Watch your mouth, Pansy."

Afterwards, he turned on Goyle.

"What are you doing idiot?"

"What does it look like?" he snapped, throwing his school robe on the ground and rolling up his sleeves.

"It looks like you've gone Gryffindor," Malfoy jeered.

"Whatever, man - I have my reasons."

Goyle ran up to the wall of fire just after Snape rushed brazenly through. Gregory followed his example, covered his face and darted through the flames. Hermione was beginning to tire when she felt a pair of arms wrap around her shoulders. It took some effort, but Snape managed to lift her up and off of Lavender.

"I said stop!" he growled, swinging her body around.

The witch kept kicking.

"Let me go! Let me go!"

Goyle ran over and helped the badly tousled, Brown off the ground. He let the bruised witch lean on him for support, despite the crowd's disappointment. Snape quickly tightened his bear hug on the struggling witch and forced her to yield.

"Miss Granger," he softly whispered. "It's over!"

Hermione was upset, but not from fear or anguish. She was just overwhelmed with an assortment of dark emotions she didn't undertand. Slowly, she stopped moving and accepted the Professor's embrace.

"Are you calm?" he asked; his voice astonishingly gentle.

"Ye … yes, "she panted.

Still holding the witch tightly, Snape glanced back. Lavender was sobbing into Goyle's shoulder and the crowd was gawking in disbelief. Thankfully, the magical flame that had kept him at bay was starting to lose its potency. Severus relaxed but did not release his hold on the witch right away. He wanted to be sure she had calmed down before he let her go.

"We're going to the Headmistress's office. Do you understand?" he said firmly, but not unkindly.

He didn't want to upset the witch anymore than necessary.

Hermione nodded. "May I go now?" she whispered back.

Snape gradually lowered the witch and loosened his grip. She slowly slipped out of his embrace and onto the pads of her feet.

"Thank you," she said with as much dignity as she could muster. "I just need to gather my things."

Snape signaled for her to hurry before turning on the crowd. "Go back to the Great Hall, ALL of you!" he growled.

The onlookers scattered, everyone except Draco, Potter, Ron and Parkinson. They were involved because their friends were involved. Ron tried to approach Lavender, but he was quickly shooed away.

"Not now, Weasley. Go to the Great Hall!" Snape barked, keeping his eyes loosely trained on Hermione as she packed her bag.

"But …"

"Are you deaf, boy?"

"But she's hurt!" Ron said, motioning towards his girlfriend. He also didn't like the fact that Goyle was holding her so tightly.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for disobeying!" the Professor sneered. "Leave now!"

"Ron, let's go," said Harry. "We'll catch up with them later."

Harry knew it was pointless to argue.

"But," Ron said again.

Hermione felt that familiar something welling up inside of her again. Was he that concerned for Lavender? Or was he just trying to hurt her by fawning over the witch in her presence? Not caring to know which, Hermione snatched her book bag and launched it towards him. It so happened that it shot right pass Snape's nose, which angered the already annoyed Professor.

The heavy satchel smacked Ron directly in the face before its contents splattered over the ground.

"Uh!" the redhead spat, falling backwards.

"_Won, Won_!" Lavender screamed.

"Miss Granger!" Snape roared, drawing his wand. "If you make another ill-move, I will be forced to retrain you!"

"Bloody, fucking hell!" Ron groaned. "I think she broke my nose!"

"Come on, man. It's not that bad. She barely grazed you." Harry said, laughing a bit.

Frankly, the git deserved it.

Snape looked back. He was unaffected by the wizard's state. He too thought Weasley had it coming.

"Get up and report to the infirmary, Mister Weasley," he ordered.

"But she broke my nose!" the redhead said. "Look, there's blood!"

"Oh, stop your whining," Snape scowled.

Harry helped Ron off the ground and headed back to the castle. He hoped, for Hermione's sake, that McGonagall went easy on her. After all, Ron and Lavender had a stake in the whole thing. Malfoy and Parkinson followed the injured wizard; not to help, but to poke fun. Afterwards, they planned to tell the entire school what happened.

Adrian hung back, seemingly bored until she spotted a curious article on the ground. Apparently, it had flown out of Granger's bag.

"What's this?" she asked.

Hermione drew a breath. _Oh, no!_

"It has your name on it, Professor Snape." Adrian said confusingly.

Severus glared at the witch blankly.

"What?"

"Well here, take a look. It has all of your medical information."

Snape snatched the file from Torres's hands and flipped through the estranged document dismayingly. Indeed, the folder contained his missing medical record. The same one Pomfrey said had gone astray weeks ago. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He suspected that Granger was capable of theft, having been victimized by her before, but this? Why would she be interested in his medical history?

"Miss Granger? Would you care to explain this?" he asked, glancing up.

Hermione colored.

"I'd like to see the Headmistress now, if you don't mind." She said in the way of a diversion.

Adrian smirked.

"The Headmistress can't help you, dear."

Snape shot the witch a displeased look. Frankly, he didn't like it when other teachers encroached on his space and as far as he was concerned, this was his problem. He would deal with it.

"We'll finish this later," he said, cutting the witch's smirk in half. "Let's go."


	27. Discipline Across the Board

Hermione sat opposite of Lavender in Headmistress's office while McGonagall paced the floor between them. Snape, Torres and Goyle stood in a nearby corner. They wanted to remain close by in case they were needed again.

"Miss Granger, I am disappointed in you, very disappointed!" McGonagall scolded, peering down her nose at her former charge. "What were you thinking, attacking Miss Brown and Mister Weasley like that?"

"That should be obvious … I was thinking I'd kick the slut's ass," the Gryffindor huffed. "Ron was a bonus."

The room fell silent. Even Lavender had the good sense to look surprised. Meanwhile, Snape's eyes said what his mouth couldn't; two or three milliseconds later, Minerva echoed his precise thoughts.

"Mind your attitude young lady! Have you gone daft? She howled. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for your lack of respect!"

Outwardly, Hermione appeared unaffected but inwardly, the penalty stung.

"Does anyone know how Mister Weasley is doing?" the Headmistress asked, taking a much needed break from the melodrama. They'd been at it for more than an hour. Everyone had given their version of events, including the shadowy trio in the corner.

"I sent him to the infirmary. More than likely, he's still there." Snape softly replied. "Shall I send for him?"

"Um, no – I have all the testimony I need. Thank you, Professor."

Severus was relieved she said no. Should they introduce Weasley into the fold, his presence might reignite Granger and truthfully, he had better things to do than break up fights.

McGonagall studied Lavender for a long moment. She was badly bruised, tattered and torn but all things considered, she was fine. The Headmistress didn't feel a boat load of pity for the young woman, considering the circumstances but regardless of Granger's reasons, physical violence was beneath a sorcerer and the code of conduct at Hogwarts. Hermione had to be punished.

"After hearing both sides, I am aware of the circumstances involving your quarrel but no wizard, or witch for that matter, is worth this!" McGonagall said, addressing their state of disarray. "Dear Heavens, you're adults! Act like it!"

Neither witch said anything. They were too busy staring each other down.

"Miss Brown …" McGonagall began, purposely disrupting the stare off. "We'll start with you."

"Me?" Lavender slurred. The ice pack Snape had given her wasn't helping much. Her jaw was still very swollen. "I wuz atthacked!"

"Yes and for that reason, I will go easy on you." Minerva said coolly. "But you are not completely blameless. From what I understand, you goaded Miss Granger into assaulting you --- challenged her, I believe?"

"Yesth, majickally … but I nevfur esthpected hur to atthack me."

"Nevertheless, you knew that your relationship with Ronald was a source of great anxiety for Hermione and yet, you still challenged her. Did you not?"

Blushing from embarrassment, Lavender bristled in her chair. She didn't like where this was going. McGonagall was making it sound like she simply picked a fight and lost. A few feet away, the Professors and Goyle observed silently. Gregory knew better than to say anything but he was having a blast watching the Gryffindors getting raked over the coals.

"Well? Do you deny it?" the elder witch pressed.

"No, Pofesssur."

"Good. We have an understanding. However small the comparison, you are partly to blame for the incident today."

Brown nodded weakly.

Adrian crinkled her nose in disgust. _This is a load of bullshit! Why doesn't that silly chit just play the sympathy card? _

"No points shall be deducted but you will serve two nights detention with Mr. Filch. I will also request an audience with you, Weasley and your Head of House regarding your behavior. Miss Brown, your relationship with Mister Weasley is your business but I expect for you both to act accordingly and reframe from tempting others into duals … and worse! Do I make myself clear?"

Lavender shot Hermione an evil glance over her swollen cheek and bag of ice. "Cwsrystal," she answered.

"Very good, I am excusing you and Mister Weasley from classes today. Please report to the infirmary and have Madam Pomfrey take a look at those bruises before returning to the tower. I will schedule a teacher-student conference after I finish with Miss Granger. You're dismissed."

Lavender stood up and acknowledged the Professor's orders with a prim nod. She was grateful for the absentee excuse and would use it to spend quality time with Ron. Once Brown was gone, McGonagall rounded on Hermione. There was a glint in her eyes which clearly said she would not be so lenient with her.

"Onto the next order of business …" she announced with a much heavier tone. "I want to reiterate, Miss Granger, that I find your behavior shocking, simply shocking. You could have seriously injured Miss Brown --- and for what, to avenge your pride?"

Hermione lowered her eyes and focused intently on her hands.

"I suppose the euphoria of your victory is beginning to wear off," Minerva remarked, relieved the witch was finally showing a speck of shame.

"Professor, I didn't plan for this to happen. I honestly don't know what came over me. One minute I was fine and the next …"

"Be that as it may, I cannot allow this deed to go unpunished!" she said, cutting the witch off.

"Excuse me, Headmistress?" Adrian interjected. "Before you render your decision, there's something you should know."

"And what is that?"

Torres looked at Snape expectantly. Snape returned the glance but for some reason, he did not appear to be in agreement. McGonagall quickly sensed Adrian was waiting for him to continue and urged the Potions Master to speak.

"Severus, what's going on?"

Snape clicked his heel annoyingly as he considered his words carefully. He didn't like feeling as if he were being coerced, forced or pushed into anything, especially when that something would have a substantial impact. Severus was a thinker and preferred deliberation to rash decision making. He liked to weigh all the possibilities, advantages and disadvantages of situation but more to the point, he'd wanted to understand the witch's reasons. Call it curiosity. He could always report the theft later.

"Miss Granger was found with a sensitive script in her possession …" he tactfully began.

Goyle's eye twitched. _What?_ He thought.

McGonagall spied the lad's interest and waved, cutting Snape off.

"I must ask you to stop right there, Professor -- -- Ahem, Mister Goyle," she said, focusing all her attention on the young Slytherin.

"Yes, Professor?"

"I'm sure I speak for your Head of House when I say, we are very grateful for your assistance this afternoon. That being said, your presence is no longer required. You may return to class."

Goyle looked at the other Professors pleadingly. He very much wanted to stay but neither of them offered the boy an ounce of support.

"Go," Snape dryly followed; his tone far less cordial than McGonagall's. He didn't like it when his students behaved like deaf buffoons.

Sighing, the wizard reluctantly obeyed. _Damn,_ he thought, turning towards the exit.

"Gregory?"

Goyle stopped and turned back.

"What you did today went above and beyond the call of duty. Slytherin is awarded fifty points and as a special thank you, I am hereby lifting the ban on your House's travels." McGonagall said nobly.

Snape's mouth dropped open.

"But Headmistress …" he spat, stepping forward.

Minerva's hand shot up.

"Professor, I think the ban has been in place long enough. Though I agree with your original assessment and tactics, it is unlikely you will find the wizard who attacked Olivia. If she should decide to divulge that information to you, I will personally see that he is properly dealt with. Until such time, it is unfair to continue punishing your entire lot over one individual."

Goyle grinned with relief and gratitude. His housemates were sure to forgive his meddling once they learned he single handedly undermined Snape's punishment.

"Yes! Thank you, Professor! I'm sure everyone will be happy to hear that," the wizard smiled.

Minerva chuckled and waved the young Slytherin off. "Go," she said.

The Potions Master said nothing as he eyeballed the Gryffindor seated shamefully in her chair. When Hermione saw how annoyed Snape looked, she glanced the other way. No doubt, he blamed her for McGonagall's overturn. Minerva waited until Goyle had cleared the room before she spoke again.

"Now, back to business; what you were saying, Severus?"

"Granger stole Snape's medical record," Adrian blurted; _to hell with all this politeness_.

McGonagall and Snape's eyes both danced but for different reasons. Severus wheeled around and glared at his sidearm while Minerva turned on her favorite student.

"W-what?! Tell me this isn't true, Granger."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out.

"Do NOT answer for me," said Snape with a low growl.

Appearing bored, the witch picked over her finger nails.

"Fine, I was just trying to help." She replied.

"Well, don't." he snapped.

"Miss Granger, answer my question. Did you take Professor Snape's record?"

For the second time that day, Hermione colored brightly.

"I didn't take it … but it was in my possession when Professor Torres found it."

"You didn't take it? How did it come into your possession then?"

"It was given to me by accident."

"Accident? How does one accidentally come across such a document?"

It was obvious by the tone in her voice that she didn't believe Hermione. In fact, after witnessing the fruits of Granger's brutality, Minerva was beginning to suspect her capable of a lot more than witchery. Hermione wanted to explain but she didn't have the energy. Besides nothing she said would do her much good. Accident or not, she had possession of the file for weeks. Failing to return the record was a huge faux pas on her part. She should have listened to Harry.

"Oh, dear …" the Headmistress said, shaking her head. "This is serious, Granger; very serious. You know perfectly well that sort of information is strictly confidential. We have laws we must abide by!"

Hermione sank down in her seat. She wanted so badly to leave; to run and hide someplace in the castle, someplace no one would find her. There were dozens of unused corridors with rooms so ominous they had protective charms surrounding them. She'd gladly risk their perilous span over sitting here, suffering under the Professor's glare.

"It pains me to tell you that I have no choice but to file a formal reprimand. As a rule, a copy is issued to the legal guardian(s) but since you are well past the age of consent, we will forgo that formality. However, the original will remain on file in my office."

Hermione nearly shot out of her chair. "Professor, if you do that no one, not even you, will be able to remove it ... ever! Formal reprimands are indefinite."

"I assure you Miss Granger, a permanent mark on your school record is the least of your concerns. Stealing confidential information belonging to another, especially a teacher, is a serious offense; expulsion worthy. I can and must do this if only to avoid having the matter go before the Board of Governors. And trust you me, they won't be so lenient."

"But I didn't steal it!"

"Can you prove that it was given to you? Or that you did not willingly possess it?"

Hermione crumpled into her seat. The answer was no.

Adrian raised her hand. "Forgive me, Headmistress …" she interrupted.

"Yes, what is it?" Minerva snapped.

"Doesn't an offense of this nature, mandate a review by the Board of Governors?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. Payback really was a bitch.

"Headmistress's prerogative," said Snape, wobbling his head sardonically.

Both Minerva and Hermione cracked their brows and looked over. They didn't know what to make of the wizard's supportive outburst.

"Thank you … Professor Snape, you're absolutely correct. I have the authority to determine what does and does not go before the Board of Governors." Minerva said sharply.

"I beg your pardon, Headmistress but I think you're mistaken. Any and all expulsion worthy offenses must go before the Board of Governors for review, despite _personal _association and preference." Torres said meaningfully.

McGonagall pursed her lips and lowered her chin so that her glasses rested pointedly on the tip of her nose. Was this very green, Professor questioning her authority or her code of ethics?

"If you don't believe me, look it up." She smugly offered.

The smoldering witch repositioned her stance. She was preparing to blast the beauty for her audacity when Dumbledore's portrait yawned in the background. As if on cue, all three Professors turned their attention towards the heavily aged wizard lounging lazily in his frame.

"Albus, do you have something to say?" Minerva asked, knowing full and well he did what he did to get their attention. Portraits were not allowed to participate in Hogwarts business unless asked.

"Why yes … I do. Thank you. You should know that Professor Torres is correct. Any and all offenses worthy of expulsion must go before the Board for acquittal."

Snape, McGonagall and Hermione blinked in surprise. No one, including Adrian, expected the old man to agree.

"However …" he said; his eyes twinkling a bit. "A hearing may not be necessary."

Dumbledore paused as if waiting for someone to ask him to continue. Minerva sighed. She wasn't much for theatrics and Albus had a way of drawing out the drama.

"And why is that?" she said, encouraging him to go on.

"Well if the offended, meaning Snape, is satisfied with the disciplinary decision, a formal inquiry into Miss Granger's actions may be dismissed on the grounds of punishment rendered." He happily offered. "I believe that's commonly referred to as a _loop hole_."

Adrian's smug expression faltered. She quickly turned to Professor Snape who was eyeing Albus's likeness with an exasperated scowl.

_Haven't I saved enough Gryffindors?_ He thought irritably.

When he turned back, all eyes were on him. Snape hesitated. He definitely felt the brat deserved to be punished but he wasn't sure if expulsion was the answer. Moreover, he wasn't inclined to give Adrian what she wanted; though he had no idea why she wanted it so badly.

Why did Granger have his record? Was that the secret she was keeping from him by the lake? If so, why had she kept it for so long? Severus wanted answers to these questions and more and he'd never be able to collect on them if she were ousted.

"Well?" McGonagall pressed.

Hermione sat up and searched the wizard's stoic face pleadingly. She dearly hoped he was in a forgiving, un-Snape-like mood. She couldn't tell by his countenance.

"Ahem …" he stalled, glancing at Adrian for incentive. And surely enough, she provided it with a false smile which scratched his antagonistic nerve.

"You have yet to render a punishment," he dimly pointed out.

There was a mute reaction across the board. It wasn't the infinitive answer they were looking for but it was punctuated by a very important point. Albus, in his wisdom, cradled his neck and shook his head. He knew the wizard well enough to read between the lines but why did he have to be so derisive?

"Oh," McGonagall said with a half-smile."Well, then … I shan't keep you waiting."

Cocking her head to the side, the Headmistress folded her arms and faced Hermione.

"Miss Granger, in addition to a formal reprimand for your actions today, I am hereby charging Gryffindor 150 points for having possession of Professor Snape's personal documents. I am also restricting your attendance to the Halloween Masquerade Banquet which will be announced tonight. You will oversee the elves at the event but you will not participate. Is that clear?"

Hermione nodded painfully. She didn't care about the Masquerade because it was doubtful she'd even have a date, but 150 points? Her housemates were going to be furious. That on top of the twenty she'd already lost was a lot.

"Also, I am assigning you a standing detention."

Everyone's eyes rounded. No one had ever heard of such a thing.

"Excuse me, Professor but what is that?" Hermione asked.

"Basically, you will be at Professor Snape's beck and call. You will perform whatever duty he deems appropriate, whenever he requires it; no exceptions. Failure to comply will result in immediate review of my findings. Am I understood?"

"For how long?"

"Until he releases you," the Headmistress replied.

Completely struck, the witch eased back into her seat.

"Does this punishment suit you, Professor?" Minerva asked, glancing towards the discipline-Guru knowingly.

Snape gave the witch a curt but sound nod. Frankly, he was stunned. No one could accuse Minerva McGonagall of being biased.

"Good. Now, you are all dismissed. Report to class, Miss Granger."

Hermione hesitated. She couldn't believe her ears. McGonagall wasn't going to give her a pass on class?

"What?" she pried. "Did you honestly believe I was going to allow you the afternoon off?"

Granger quickly shut her gaping mouth and stood up. Yes, she was bitter, perhaps a little resentful but mostly, she ready to leave.

"Good day, Professor," she said sullenly.

Feeling the weight of authority bearing down on her shoulders, the Headmistress watched Hermione leave with a questionable look on her face. Though it pained her to have to punish her favorite student so severely, it was necessary. One day she would understand.

The Professors waited until Granger was gone before making their way to the door. Adrian was the last to walk out but just before she did, Minerva stopped her.

"Professor Torres, a word please?"

Adrian looked to Snape for help but he walked ahead, either unaware of her need or purposely ignoring the witch.

"Yes?" she said, watching the wizard disappear down the winding staircase.

"I understand that you are new to Hogwarts and therefore, you may not be familiar with our way of doing things but allow me to make a suggestion …" she said with a smile so fake it could be construed as a forgery.

"Yes?"

"Never again, under any circumstances, undermine my authority in the presence of a student. Am I understood?"

Adrian's face became hot with embarrassment.

"But I …"

"Otherwise, I may be forced to show you a thing or two about the kind of darkness you've only read about in books." she primly informed as she adjusted her spectacles.

There was a moment of unspoken acknowledgement between the witches as Adrian pondered whether or not to say anything. Seconds later, she walked out; careful not to slam the door behind.

"Humph," Minerva grunted, circling back around. She was immediately greeted by a very pleased and slightly awed Dumbledore.

"Cattiness becomes you," he chuckled.

The elder witch made a proud, claw-like gesture and returned to her desk.

"I meant it," she said.

* * *

Torres stormed into her quarters and slammed the door. "How dare she threaten me," chunking her lesson plan aside.

"I could easily sever the hag's head with a single flick! Better yet, I could quarter her with four! Arrrh! And Snape! Why did he help that little twat? I had Granger in my crosshairs!"

"Dear, is everything alright?" a voice said from the small sitting room.

Adrian froze.

_No …_

Her fear was soon realized when Lady Karkaroff stepped into view.

Dressed in mahogany silk robes and stroking her wand suggestively, Rosa's look was lax, almost informal with her silver streaked hair dangling loosely over her shoulders and her conservative neckline unbuttoned; however, Adrian could tell from her tight expression that she was not pleased about something.

"My Lady, it is a pleasure to see you."

"Is it?"

"How did you get in here?" she asked, struggling to conceal her nervousness.

"Adrian, dearest, you underestimate me. Do you think me incapable of performing a simple charm?"

"No, of course not, all I meant was … how did you get past Hogwarts wards?"

"Since our Lord's demise, security is not what it used to be. More to the point, I have my ways. However, I can't stay long. I have business elsewhere. I only stopped by to inquire after your progress."

Torres cleared her throat and straightened her posture.

"As I reported last week, everything is going well."

"Are we on schedule?"

"Everything is in place," the witch cleverly evaded.

"But are we on schedule?"

"The charm is working brilliantly, just as you said it would but I'm afraid I've been unable able to secure Snape's …"

"Affections?" Rosa finished.

"Trust," Adrian corrected.

Lady Karkaroff took a deep breath. No, time wasn't an issue at this juncture but she had hoped Adrian's skills as a temptress would have proved more rewarding by now.

"Don't tell me you're still having difficulty bedding that ugly, horses ass?"

Adrian frowned. "Professor Snape is proving to be more of an obstacle than I initially anticipated. It certainly doesn't help that Potter's friend, Hermione Granger, keeps getting involved."

"Granger … Granger … ah, yes, the one you were ranting about when you walked in."

Torres snorted. "Yeah, that's the one. I don't think she's anyone to be concerned about, it's just …"

"You're not here to think, Adrian! You're here on my orders. Leave the thinking to me!" Lady Karkaroff snapped. "If she's a problem, deal with her. Surely, a woman of your talents can outwit a little girl?"

"You needn't worry. She's not a threat."

"Anything that interferes with my plans is a threat. What about Malfoy?"

"I am pleased to report, he is absolutely useless. I vote we cut him from the pact. The wizard refuses to communicate with me and has gone out on his own to enlist the help of another Professor."

"Who?"

"Nicholas Sweetie. He teaches Transfiguration and is Head of Gryffindor House."

Rosa's confidence in the witch took a sudden nose dive. Not only was she lacking as a temptress but she was losing her grip on the young wizard as well. The only thing going for her right now was the Odiam charm. Few sorceresses could wield it much less conceal its signature for any length of time.

"Don't concern yourself with Draco. I will deal with him when the time comes. After all, he needs me to succeed. For now, just focus on your other assignment."

"And Snape? What if I can't get him to _trust _me? What then?"

Lady Karkaroff's face became distant and surreal. To the untrained eye, she looked as if she was contemplating a question. Once she settled on an answer, she moseyed over to where Torres was standing and stopped just short of invading her personal space. Though she didn't mean too, Adrian flinched when Rosa held out her wand and aimed it at her bosom.

"That…" she softly said, tracing the tip of her wand over her cleavage, up her neck and to her cheek. "… would complicate matters."

Adrian's dark brown eyes locked with the elder witch's muddy brown orbs knowingly. She knew what to expect but jolted frightfully when Rosa tapped her skin lightly. Instantly, Adrian felt Lady Karkaroff's cold magic wash over her face, dissolving her magically enhanced glamour like acid. One half of her face began to melt and within seconds, horrible burns appeared; lining her profile. The horrifying disfiguration extended from her warped hairline to her collarbone.

"I'm sure you remember how frustrated my brother would become whenever you use to disappoint him, don't you?"

Adrian closed her eyes and swallowed.

"Well, he loved you like a whore …" she said darkly. "I --- do --- not."

Torres felt a chill run down her spine that had nothing to do with magic. "I understand," she replied.

With a second tap, Rosa restored the witch's devastated flesh to its former glory. When Adrian opened her eyes and looked into the mirror, she was whole again. The ugliness was gone.

"But," Rosa said in a much lighter tone, "If something should go awry, we'll simply have to improvise; won't we?"

"Yes ... my Lady."

Adrian stroked her cheek silently; too afraid to offer anything resembling an opinion for fear she might unhinge the already unstable witch.


	28. Dream with Me

Snape found himself standing in the middle of an unfamiliar marketplace. It was jammed packed with non-magical folks moving from booth to booth inspecting various vegetables, fish and clothing goods. It wasn't a high end outfit scaled with expensive boutiques and corner cafés but a haggler's paradise; not dissimilar to a modern flea market. Merchants, identified only by their bamboo pineapple hats, lined the dented stone street on both sides. Behind the laboring peddlers, lay more conventional stores with only handful of patrons entering and exiting.

The wizard's ear twitched when he overhead what sounded like a plucking instrument in the distance. The melody was soft and winding, a ping without a specific style or focus; but unlike most popular music, it wasn't jarring or unappealing. The faint tune was accompanied by a number of odors that ranged from putrid to exotic.

Rotating on his axis, Severus examined his surroundings.

There were children wearing black silk, dragon caps running merrily through the crowd and livestock, consisting mostly of ducks and geese, scattered throughout the market. The curves were stocked with food vendors; all of whom were busy serving bowels of steamed rice, sautéed fish and ice shavings. The smell wasn't pungent but it was aromatic, nearly overpowering the scent of cherry blossoms in the air. He could hear traders yelling something over his head and business women screaming to each other in a language he did not understand.

Snape carefully made his way through the narrow duct between booths and customers. He had no desire to interact with the persons shopping but the learner in him couldn't resist studying the patrons up close. Yes, his brain should have been screaming with questions but it wasn't; he was far too occupied with the wonder to even bother with the facts.

After poking his huge nose in people's faces and conversations, none of whom he understood as a result of the language barrier, he relaxed. No one seemed to care or notice that he was there. He didn't spark so much as a dirty look after rudely standing between two men haggling over the price of silk; or a sideways glance from a cyclist whom he nearly collided.

_These Muggles can't see me …_

He decided to test his theory by snatching an apple off a fruit stand in full view of the owner. The wizard folded his arms and waited for the retailer to say something but the peddler didn't blink. He happily continued talking to his customer completely oblivious to Severus's presence and the apple's disappearance.

A broad grin appeared on the Potions Master's face. He was truly invisible. Better still, he was invisible without repercussion. Naturally, he wondered what James Potter would think if he was alive. He'd probably be Slytherin green with jealously. The git was always bragging about his damn invisibility cloak like it was a sacred gift when in actuality, it was only a little better than a disillusionment charm.

Twisting the apple in his hand, Snape ventured curiously through the marketplace. He took every opportunity to observe everything fully and in full view of the crowd. At one point he amused himself by arbitrating an argument between two merchants. It appeared they were having a heated discussion about how to properly fillet a fish. When the two men began throwing innards at one another, Severus got out of dodge.

The darkly clad wizard wandered aimlessly down the avenue of penny salesmen. After a while, he came into an area with hilltop residences guarded by iron street gates and lush green gardens. Though the homes were located far away from the merchant outbound, they were within carriage distance of the activity; like tiny castles surrounded by a mote of commoners.

All of the residences were richly painted in colors of red, gold, and black. Many of them were accented with large, jade statues; undoubtedly, for the purpose of showing off their wealth to visitors. Even the ceramic tile roofs were vibrantly accosted, making these living quarters seem more like landmarks.

"_Ohayoou Gozaimasu_," a voice giggled.

Severus spun around so fast that his oily locks clung to his cheeks. He looked back just in time to snag a glimpse of a young lady smiling demurely in his direction. She was wearing a silver kimono and twirling a round parasol over her shoulder. Unlike the other Muggles, she was the only one who could see him.

Severus idled for several seconds, unsure whether he should continue onward or follow the pale beauty. A voice in his head told him he should pursue her and for once, he followed his instincts. He trekked a respectable distance behind the young woman for several blocks. Occasionally, she would glance back to see if he was following and sure enough, he was. After sidestepping several patrons, most of whom were preoccupied with shopping, Severus saw the woman's parasol disappear around a distant bend. He sped up so not to lose sight of the kimono wearing starlet but by time he reached the alleyway, she was gone.

The wizard frowned deeply.

"Why so distraught," a man said in a language he understood.

Snape slowly wheeled around to find an elderly black man sitting in a rocker. He was weaving a straw basket at a patron vacant booth. There were dozens of similar straw creations dangling from its ceiling and even more spread across the table. It didn't look as if he received very much business. Perhaps, the lack of clientele stemmed from the fact that he was a foreigner. Maybe the locals didn't trust his product.

"Did you see a woman pass by here a moment ago?" asked Snape.

"I've seen lots of women. Could you be more specific?" he replied, not bothering to look up from his busy hands.

Snape stiffened. He truly despised cheek.

"She was wearing a silver robe and carrying a white umbrella."

"Ah … yes," the old man said, drawing out his response.

Severus worked his mouth annoyingly. "Did you see where she went?" he pressed.

"Mm, no – but that alley leads nowhere. She'll have to pass by here again if you'd care to wait."

Severus didn't feel much like waiting. He didn't even know why he was pursuing the foreign Muggle to begin with. It all seemed very strange; yet logical in a screwy sort of way.

"No, I don't think I will …" he slowly put forth, regaining his sense of decorum.

"Suit yourself."

Snape studied the black man. His face was well hidden behind an oversized bamboo hat but there was something familiar about his voice.

"You speak English," he observed while privately singling out his ethnicity in an Asian market.

The old man stopped rocking. "I speak many languages," he replied, smiling as he looked up for the first time.

Severus studied the merchant's graying features. "Have we met before?" He asked, treading closer for a better look.

"Well, I am rather well known."

"You don't say …,"pausing to look around. Suddenly, Snape was struck by the oddity of his environment and present company. "Where have we met?"

The old man said nothing.

"I do know you …" Severus seemed to recall but only dimly.

"Would you care for a basket?" the merchant asked, catching the wizard off guard and icing his walk down memory lane.

"Uh ... no – I have no need."

"Well, tell me what you need and I will see if I can provide it for you."

"I don't want anything," Snape answered; giving no thought to his response.

"And that is precisely why I want to help you."

"Come again?"

"I am in the business of helping those who want for nothing," He clarified.

Snape snorted. This guy, whoever he was, wasn't working with a proper ladle.

"And here, I was under the impression you were a basket weaver."

"Oh, these aren't baskets." he politely corrected.

"Mm, my mistake." said the wizard, his tone unmistakably sarcastic.

"They're lives, dear man … people's lives. I take great satisfaction in mending the broken ones. For example, this is your basket." He said, holding up the faded green, jagged parcel for Severus to see. "It was full of holes once, ugly and underrated but I am working to repair the damage."

_Mine?_

Snape's brows danced a sardonic wave as he exhaled a skeptical breath; however, he stopped short of a full sigh when he realized the old man called him ugly. True as it was, he didn't need to be reminded.

"You don't believe me," the merchant observed.

"Why do you waste your time _repairing_ baskets? Why don't you just make new ones?"

The old man's face became somber. It was a valid question, worthy of a real answer. He just hoped it wasn't lost to cynicism. Men had a way of dismissing his wisdom as trite, obsolete or corny but most who did wanted something more complicated than was really necessary. They wanted a 56897 X 56783 answer when almost everything equated to 1 + 1.

"People don't lose their worth just because they're damaged. There isn't anything that can't be repaired with love. And for the record, I never discard anything. What kind of creator would I be if I tossed all my unesirables away? The beauty is in the flaw, you know ..."

Snape had stopped paying the old Muggle any attention. He was too busy observing a group of giddy, painted females. They were all wearing robes similar to his lady admirer and sporting round umbrellas.

_Lovely ..._ he thought.

The darkly fashioned wizard offered the ladies a shy smile for which none of them acknowledged. His smirk quickly dissolved into a frown when they passed seemingly unaware of his existence.

"Perhaps if you're not too busy, you might consider helping me mend a few? I'd gladly accept whatever time you could spare."

This got Severus's attention. He rolled his head around and glared at the man evenly.

_He must be joking._

"You want me to help you weave??" he asked; his tone aristocractic and disbelieving. Severus was no snob but he could mimic one like a finely tuned actor.

"You may start with this one," the merchant smiled, handing the wizard a pristine looking vat.

The straw pieces were woven together using purple and gold twine; multi-colored tassels decorated the neck and black calligraphy lined the base. It was a lot prettier and far less used than the one the merchant said he was weaving for him.

"What's wrong with it?" he asked, examining the work. It weighed next to nothing and probably damaged easily but he couldn't see where it required mending.

"It needs to be repaired."

"Even if I was inclined to help you … which I'm not, I don't see anything wrong with it."

"Look closer, dear man. Don't you see the cracks? Look, there's one ... and there, and there and another one over there. They may seem small now but they could split and cause more serious problems later."

As far as Severus could tell, the basket was immaculate. He could find no cracks though he tried. Somewhat annoyed, he placed the basket back on the table and stepped away.

"I must go. I have things to do."

The old man was disappointed but his smile never wavered.

"Perhaps, later?" he kindly suggested, returning to his craft weaving hands.

The wizard turned towards the lively marketplace. He didn't answer the old man, nor did he intend too. He was far too occupied with finding his way back; to where, he did not know.

* * *

Using his peripheral vision, Snape observed his morning roster trickle reluctantly into class. He was in the middle of recording their most recent marks when it dawned on him that no one, not even his best students, scored above an 'E' on the last assignment.

_If they think I am going to curb anything, they're sadly mistaken. _He thought over a yawn.

Snape quickly stifled the reflex when he spied a group of Ravenclaws eyeing him curiously. For reasons of his own, he pretended not to notice and focused on his recordings.

"Professor," Olivia interrupted. "Here is your coffee; black with two sugars, just like you asked."

"Ahem … thank you," he whispered, his voice gruff. "You're dismissed."

The elf proudly but needlessly, bowed before the Potions Master and winked out of the classroom. Severus figured she was just showing off and rolled his eyes.

_Elves …_

As Snape stirred his beverage, he felt the weight of several eyes upon him. Vultures they were; all of them. Students could smell the blood of their tired, dead beat enemies aka, Professors; resulting in a class wide under mind. However, Snape was no fool; nor would he be had. There would be no easy, breezy lectures or foolish slips today or any other day.

The Potions Master boringly finished his whisk, placed his spoon aside and looked up; breaking the nosy onlooker's curiosity with a harsh scowl. "Something the matter?" he asked; his voice deceptively smooth.

His students quickly busied themselves with their cauldrons.

Snape made a face when the steaming liquid grazed his upper lip. "Sss," he grimaced, rubbing his charred skin with a napkin.

Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock

As the Professor waited for the clock to wind down, he enjoyed his coffee in blissful silence. Yes, he could have taken a potion to relieve his drowsiness but as a well-regarded Master, he was opposed to unnecessary usage; preferring instead to rely on natural remedies and endorphins to cure his occasional bout with fatigue.

It was nearing time for class to begin when Hermione Granger waltzed inside. She avoided eye contact with everyone and marched straight to her station. The Gryffindors barely acknowledged their housemate or her beastly looking state as she entered. They were all pretty upset over the loss of points and ignominy she brought down on their House.

Exhausted, Hermione plopped down in her seat. Her hair looked electrocuted and her robes were badly rumpled. Also, two lines of dried mascara stained her cheeks. The color was faint, barely detectable but it was plain to see she'd been crying.

Snape observed the witch over his steaming cup of brew. He deduced that her ghastly appearance was a result of personal stress and would forgo slashing any points for the moment, though he doubted she'd be able to make through the day without being chastised if she didn't do something.

"Miss Granger …" he said, setting his coffee down.

Everyone looked towards the head of the classroom; everyone but Hermione. She merely closed her eyes and sighed. She wasn't in the mood for his crap. The class, particularly the Slytherin section, waited anxiously for Snape to blast the egghead.

"Please come to the front," he calmly finished.

A few disappointed grunts, stemming mostly from Brown's table, could be heard across the room. Equally stunned, were the Slytherins and Ravenclaws whose appetites were wet with anticipation.

Hermione reluctantly did as the Professor instructed. "Sir," she said, approaching the podium.

Snape gave the witch a measuring glance.

"Come closer," he murmured.

Using the corner of his writing table for leverage, Hermione leaned into his voice.

"You seem to have forgotten yourself, Miss Granger. What do you mean coming into my classroom looking as if you just rolled out of bed?" he softly scolded.

"I'm sorry, Professor … I fell asleep while reading and well … I slept in my clothes. I didn't have time to change before class." She said truthfully, less a few details.

Snape offered the witch a dim, '_I wasn't born yesterday'_, look.

"Reading, aye? Is that why your make up is smeared?"

Hermione's hand shot to her face. She didn't even stop to look into the mirror when she left the library that morning.

"May I be excused?" she asked, discreetly wiping her face as best she could.

Snape's eyes left the Gryffindor for a moment. He knew all the facts surrounding her condition, thanks in part to their time together by the lake. He was all too familiar with her recent breakup, the fight with Lavender Brown and his missing file which earned her a standing detention with him and cost her House 150 points; not to mention the formal reprimand McGonagall was planning to place on her permanent record. If anyone had a reason to appear less than stellar ... perhaps, it was Hermione Granger. Still, he wouldn't allow the witch to go on disrupting his class with evidence of her self-pity smeared across her face, sleeve and blouse. Better to nip it in the bud right now.

_Mm, but what to do?_

He certainly didn't feel like gazing upon her cliché witch motif all morning.

Snape searched the blasé faces whose ears were focused intently on their discussion. They appeared to be waiting for him to say something or strip away more points; adding to Gryffindor's painful loss. What surprised him most was their lust for punishment. He'd never known a class to be so unfeeling towards a potential victim; even if that student was of rival House.

_Curious …_ he thought, noting the glint in their eyes.

"You have twenty minutes," he coolly replied.

Relieved, Hermione gave the wizard a meek smile which he glimpsed off the back end of a glance. Seemingly unaffected, he quickly wrote out a hall pass and held it out for the witch to take.

"Go," he said.

"Thank you, Professor"

He did not respond.

Hermione's classmates took turns following her out of Potions. They couldn't believe their ears. Had Professor Snape gone soft? Two years ago, he would've docked Gryffindor 20 points, mocked the witch for looking like hell and encouraged a few ugly snickers in between.

"It just doesn't seem right," Bultrode whispered.

Snape spied their disappointment and jerked his chin unapologetically. So its malevolence they crave? Smirking inwardly, he decided the best way to satisfy their lust for malice was to give them what they wanted. He'd begin with a hard, debasing lecture on Wolfsbane.

"Everyone, take out your notes from last week." he dryly announced. "It would seem a review is in order …"

Everyone reacted with a sigh.

* * *

Hermione stopped in the main foyer to check her uniform once more. She was both grateful and stunned by Snape's unprecedented benevolence and decided it was best not to waste his tolerance by showing up a button out of sorts.

_Much better,_ she thought.

As Hermione was preparing to leave, she happened to glance over at Gryffindor's hourglass. The bulb that contained their House points was down by half its usual amount this time of year. Though she understood the shortage wasn't entirely her fault, she couldn't help but feel guilty.

_In addition to a formal reprimand for your actions today, I am hereby charging Gryffindor 150 points …_

Lingering beneath the enormous jewel deposit, Hermione found herself memorized by the gems until she noticed something strange. A few of the rubies were a shade or two darker than the others and they didn't sparkle as brilliantly.

_Odd …_ she thought, pressing her nose against the glass for a better look.

"Gotcha!" Filch shouted from behind.

Hermione spun around.

"Caught you wandering the halls during class!" he said with a huge, green grin.

The witch was forced to take a step back. The old squib's breath was absolutely foul. Not that Argus noticed. He was too busy fantasizing about the look on McGonagall's face when her prized pupil showed up on her doorstep rubbing her sore, Gryffindor fanny. Of course, the school would never allow him spank the wench but it was a fun thought nonetheless.

"I'm not wandering," she snapped.

"Don't sass me. I know for a fact you have lessons today. Don't even try to deny it, Missy."

Hermione rolled her eyes, reached into her pocket and whipped out Snape's excuse. Filch, being somewhat near-sighted, held the pass and inch from his nose so he could read it.

"I, Professor Snape, do hereby give Hermione Granger permission to return to Gryffindor Tower for a period of 20 minutes."

Argus paused to think. He knew it wasn't a fake because he recognized the Professor's cramped handwriting but still, it wasn't like the Professor to allow anyone, especially Gryffindors, time out of class_._

"Fine! You're excuse," he grumbled, slapping the parchment forward.

Hermione took the pass and turned haughtily towards the dungeons. "Thank you," she said, resisting the urge to snicker.

Frowning, Filch watched the witch saunter away.

_I hate kids!_ He thought, shuffling towards the courtyard; his scoop and brush in hand. According to his duty roster, the owls had taken to shitting up the place.

_Birds too …_

* * *

**A/C:** Yes, this chapter was a walk on the weird side but I achieved a few things with this chapter that I couldn't have done any other way. We're closing in on some SS/HG action folks!


	29. Meeting Olivia

Nearly a week had passed since Hermione's altercation with Lavender. Not much had changed. In fact, things had become worse. Before folks were just amazed that she and Ron were over before they ever really began but now it seemed everyone had taken Lavender's side. She was playing up the 'physical attack' every chance she got, labeling it as lowly behavior for any witch or wizard. Of course, her motive was simple; to make Hermione an outcast in order to secure her hold on Ron. Public condemnation through moral indignation seemed the best way to do that. It also went a long way in helping folks forget the muddy plight that eclipsed 'her' perfect union.

The plan was working beautifully accept where Harry and Ron's sister were concerned. They weren't buying into Lavender's victim act or the 'perfect' couple routine.

"Come on, Gin --- give her a chance. You liked Lavender fine when we were dating," Ron exasperated.

"Not true! And besides, last time she wasn't snogging you in secret and smiling in Hermione's face in public!"

"Blah, Blah ... that's all water underneath the bridge." He said, glancing at Lavender who was chatting with a group of Ravenclaw girls. When she spotted her beau looking, she gave him a sweet, blow-in-palm kiss.

Harry simply glared at the pussy-struck wizard like he was crazy. Ron stopped smiling when he caught the nauseous look on both Harry and Ginny's face.

"I'm with Ginny," he said roughly.

"I can't say I'm surprised. You do whatever Ginny thinks. You know ... maybe I'm going about this all wrong. Maybe I should wait. That way, when she forgives me, you will too."

"Ginny isn't the boss of me!" Harry snapped. "Furthermore, there's nothing to forgive,_ Ronald_. I'm not the one you cheated on. You can't expect us to cozy up to Lavender after what happened. Hermione has been our friend for years."

"So, have I!" the redhead interjected.

"Yes, but YOU lied! You … you broke our trust --- our circle."

"Oh, get off it – Harry, our circle?! How childish is that?"

The wizard colored and looked away.

_Score 1 for Ron, I guess._

"Look, first it was you and me; then Hermione and later, Gin. Don't you remember our first day on the Hogwarts Express? I asked you if I could sit in your cart because everywhere else was full. We've been friends ever since. I will always care for Hermione but Lavender is who I want to be with. You'll have to except it sooner or later. Lest you forget, you're dating my sister."

Ginny reddened but not from embarrassment. She was ready to jump down her brother's throat when Harry spoke.

"You're being a complete arse, Ron! You went off and did something foul and now you act as if everything is supposed to be rosy because you say so. Well, it's not! I don't understand what's gotten into you. Why the sudden devotion to Lavender? It's almost like you changed overnight …" said Harry, pausing to consider whether his friend had been drugged or not. It wouldn't be first time a love potion had slipped passed their nets.

"I'm not a_ victim_, if that's what you're thinking," Ron fiercely denied.

After a second, Harry conceded with a shrug but he still felt something was amiss.

"Anyway, Hermione got into a lot of trouble last week; more than you realize and now … well, now it seems everyone is snubbing her. I don't know why but I'm sure it has everything to do with Lavender. She is turning everyone's ear upside down with this woe-pitiful-me crap!"

Incidentally, Ron wasn't aware of the trouble Hermione got into for having Snape's confidential file. No one knew except Harry, McGonagall, Snape and Torres. He didn't even tell Ginny. Everyone just assumed the Headmistress was tougher than her formers.

"Well, it serves her right! She shouldn't have attacked my cuddles," The redhead said indignantly.

Ginny made a face like she was going to vomit. Cuddles?

"Oh, sod off!" She hissed, jumping to her feet.

The outburst got the attention of several people standing nearby, all whom were staring at the siblings curiously. She didn't mean to be so loud but Ron was being a classless jerk.

"I have to get to Herbology." Ginny mumbled, grabbing her books.

"I'll walk with you." said Harry, darting to catch up.

Ron glared at the pair as they stalked off. Ginny was 'his' sister and Harry was 'his' best friend. Why couldn't they just accept Lavender so they could go back to the way things were? Yes, things would be a little uncomfortable for a while but Hermione would come around eventually. After all, she didn't love him, not like Lavender. And she didn't want to do things for him, unlike Lavender. So, what was the big fuss all about?

"So, how did things go?" asked Lavender, taking a seat next to her beau.

"They said they'd think about it," Ron lied.

Lavender's face lit up like a birthday cake. If everything stayed on schedule, their engagement and subsequent nuptials wouldn't be far behind.

_Mrs. Ronald Weasley; loving wife and devoted household Matriarch …_ she thought dreamily.

* * *

"Please come in," McGonagall said.

Hermione walked inside, closed the door and marched quickly to the Headmistress's desk. She wasn't thrilled about being dragged out of bed on class-free Friday and it showed. With her hands folded neatly behind her back, she offered the Professor a prim nod and a measly good morning.

McGonagall peered at the witch from over the rims of her square spectacles. It was easy to see that she was still upset which was disconcerting but despite Albus's constant nagging that she'd been too harsh on the girl, Minerva felt her decision was just. It was only to shut the old coot up that she was willing to entertain the notion of cutting the famed pupil some slack.

"I wanted to inform you of my decision concerning your punishment. After much consideration and debate …" She said, glancing at Albus's portrait. "I have decided that you may attend the festivity tomorrow night if you wish. You do not have to assist the elves."

Hermione did not react.

"Well?"

"No, thank you," she stiffly replied.

The Headmistress removed her glasses and sat back. "What do you mean, no?" she asked.

"_No_, thank you. I will serve as instructed."

Sufficed to say, the witch was befuddled. Her lips ran through a series of alphabetical shapes before settling on a very confused M.

"Why?" she spat.

"I don't have a date and it's too late to find one. I don't have any friends; at least, no one I'd care to hang out with or whose night I'd like to ruin … but most of all, I have no desire to ease your conscience." She plainly answered.

McGonagall's thin brow arched so high that it nearly touched her hairline. Albus wore a similar expression but his was born of amusement not shock.

"Ease my conscience …?" she said, drumming her fingers against the desk.

The witches studied each other for a moment. Neither of them was willing to budge.

"Well, well … I assure you, Miss Granger, that my conscience is clear; and believe me, you are in no danger of burdening it with guilt. That being said, since you're not interested in my offer, I hereby withdraw it."

Dumbledore slumped down in his painted chair. He'd worked very hard to get Minerva to relent.

"Olivia!" the Headmistress pitched.

Moments later, a House Elf appeared.

"Olivia comes as ordered," the creature bowed.

"Miss Granger has been assigned to help you and the others with the Masquerade Ball tomorrow night. After she has breakfast, you may start her on decorations. Tomorrow, she will assist as needed. Do you understand?"

"As needed?" Olivia said confusingly. Elves always did everything.

"Yes, as needed. Surely, you can find something for her to do?"

"Um, Olivia begs your pardon Professor but is you placing Olivia in charge of the Misses?"

Hermione counted backwards from ten to keep from smiling. The floppy eared creature was gawking at the Headmistress as if she'd lost her mind; an elf in charge of a witch?

"Are you refusing the responsibility?"

"No!" Olivia shouted. She'd never refuse her boss lady. "Olivia can do it! She just wanted to be sure she understood the duty, that's all."

"Yes, you will be in charge of the Misses," Minerva clarified. "But you needn't look so terrified. Your job is to provide activities, not orders. That being said, those activities should be completed without magic on the part of Miss Granger. Also, I don't want anyone assisting her with her duties, is that clear? This detail has been assigned as a disciplinary measure and should not be made fun or easy."

The elf bowed in acknowledgement. She didn't feel right about tasking a grown witch but she would do as the Headmistress commanded.

"You are both dismissed," said McGonagall as she pretended to read over her daily agenda.

Obedient as ever, Olivia rushed over snatched the witch's hand. Before Hermione could object, they were gone. Minerva and the portraits blinked after the pair surprisingly.

"Well … I suppose that's, that." Albus mused.

* * *

Professor Snape was headed to his office when he spotted Goyle exiting the dungeon lavatory. He thought nothing of it until he remembered the wizard didn't have class that day.

"Good morning, Mister Goyle." He voiced from behind.

Gregory swung around. Initially, his expression read 'oh, shit' until he remembered himself and then it said, 'oh, it's you.'

"Sir," he dully replied.

Snape observed the wizard curiously. His tie was loose, his hair was ruffled and his zipper was undone. Not to mention he looked as if he'd just stepped out of a sauna.

_Strange_…

The dungeons bordered on freezing most of the year.

Adrian was preparing to walk out but stopped just short of colliding with Professor Snape. He was blocking the only exit but fortunately his back was turned. To keep from yelping, she placed her hand over her mouth and tipped toed back inside.

"It's awfully early … what are you doing up and about on you're day off?" he asked searchingly.

"I couldn't sleep and I have … Quidditch practice later." Greg said hurriedly.

True, the Slytherin did have Quidditch practice that day but practice didn't begin until 2 o'clock.

"I see … but why are here?"

"I had to go," he spat with a 'why do you think' tone.

The Potions Master sneered. Not only was the boy lying but he was doing a poor job of it.

"If memory serves, practice isn't later this afternoon. Why travel two floors up … _to go_, as you put it, when you could have used the loo downstairs? And while we're at it, explain to me why you're sweating?"

Goyle shrugged. He wasn't a gifted liar but the Professor was a human detector; he'd have him cornered in no time if he didn't think of something fast.

"Because the other bathroom was full --- and I had to hurry, "he agitated. "What's the big deal? Haven't you ever had to piss really bad?"

Bonk! Wrong answer.

Now irritated, Snape's face worked itself over. His curved beak crinkled in response to the wizard's insolence while his upper lip danced across his gum line, revealing his crooked, yellowish teeth.

"Ten points from Slytherin, for your poor attitude and language. A well bred wizard wouldn't use a term like 'piss' in public or when addressing a superior. And frankly, I find your behavior quiet suspicious … --- wait a minute, is someone in there?" asked Snape, pausing in observance of a shadow.

"Who, what, where?" Goyle dimly replied. His ploy only made the Professor more suspicious. Now, he was sure the wizard was hiding something.

"In there --- the bathroom. Are you alone Mister Goyle?"

"Yeah … I mean, yes sir."

Wheeling on his heel, the Professor stalked into the lavatory. "Then you won't mind if I take a look," he said to the nervous wizard behind.

"No … yes … I mean, why?!"

Snape glanced around the urinal wall and under the stall doors. He was searching for two possible things; a freshly shagged student or scandalous folly, maybe both. Young people, even wizards, were known to dabble in all sorts of wicked things. If he was up to no good, it was better that he catch him than someone else.

Goyle ran in after Snape.

"Professor, there is no one here! You're being silly!" he panicked, now afraid for his lover.

Technically, Gregory was old enough to engage Adrian but student-teacher relations were heavily frowned upon. In fact, it was grounds for termination in most cases; particularly, if the teacher was suspected of padding the student's grades which Torres had done for him on several occasions. The last known encounter between a Hogwarts Professor and student took place more than a century prior, during Dumbledore's time and that transcended from a scandalous upset to marriage. However, such instances were extremely rare. Most teachers and students didn't see the prospect of romance in one another.

Snape whipped out his wand, aimed it at the row of toilet doors and began blowing them open one by one.

"Why so nervous, Mister Goyle?"

"I'm not …" the wizard pitched. "You're just overreacting … as usual!"

Snape dropped his arm and turned around.

"As usual? Whatever do you mean?" he dared.

Goyle swallowed. He knew he had to say something; anything to get Snape out of there but he wasn't sure if tweaking his big nose was the best way to do it.

"Answer me."

The young wizard teetered on his next words carefully. He was worried that reminding him of his recently overturned punishment might set his Head of House off.

"I was …" he said, thinking carefully. "I was … _busy_, okay?"

Snape folded his arms and glared at boy.

"Busy? Doing what?"

_Illegal magic … sally seed (marijuana) … Merlin forbid, not Nip …,_ the Professor thought.

Gregory shook his head and looked away. He was about to falsely admit to an act he'd never confess to in truth; not to a grown man, anyway. Not even his so-called best friends.

"Busy …" he grumbled, hoping to God the older wizard would hurry up and get a clue.

Unfortunately, the boy's meaning was lost.

"Busy doing what?" asked Snape, now glaring holes into the wizard's forehead.

Seconds passed.

"I was busy, okay?!" Goyle snapped, gesturing towards his crotch for emphasis.

_Ruffled hair … loose tie … sweaty face … hiding out in a vacant bathroom …,_ Severus thought, slowly putting together what would soon become a huge epiphany.

Snape eased back. Subconsciously, he was distancing himself from the idea but physically he was stuck. For the next couple of moments, both wizards appeared mortified.

_Dear Salazar, I caught the fool boy whacking off. _

"Ahem," Snape began. "I see …"

Severus just didn't know what else to say. Masturbation, especially in Wizarding London, was a private matter; not to be discussed between adult males unless it concerned adult females and never publicly.

Adrian was in the very last stall. She'd cast a silencing charm on herself as well as a disillusionment spell and was laughing hysterically.

"May I be excused?" Gregory asked, hoping like hell Snape would follow.

"Yes, of course …" the Professor readily granted. "Please, continue your busin --- ahem, way … go about your way."

Goyle moved nervously towards the door. Severus mistook his nervousness for embarrassment and thought nothing more of it until he spotted a series of short glances towards the rear stall. He assumed it was the same cell previously occupied by the hormonal youngster and Gregory was hinting for him not to go in there.

Snape happily obliged.

Goyle darted out of the bathroom and down the hall. If Snape did discover Adrian there, he didn't want to be around when it happened. Yes, he had feelings for the witch but those feelings extended to lust and fascination; loyalty had its limits and he had just tested them with that humiliating fib.

Severus counted back from a hundred then stormed out of the lavatory. He left a hysterical witch panting his wake.

_And I'm expected to seduce that suppressed git? What kind of dark --- no scratch that, former dark wizard is he? _She mused over and over.

* * *

Olivia and Hermione reappeared in the kitchens, surprising all the workers; including the Head Elf, Oz.

"Whoa! That was weird." Hermione breathed, plopping down in the nearest chair. "Olivia?"

"Yes, Misses."

"Don't do that again, okay? I mean, I can walk if it's all the same to you."

Olivia frowned. How did she expect to get anything accomplished if she had to walk everywhere?

"Okay … but Olivia thinks poofing is much better."

"Poofing? Is that what you call it?"

Olivia nodded.

"What do you call it?"

"Apparating"

"Oh, no, no, no --- only masters are allowed to do that, Olivia poofs!"

Hermione snickered. It sounded like she said, Olivia poops.

"What's the difference?"

"Um … well … nothing, I guess … poofing is just something elves do." Olivia explained, unsure of the difference herself. She was always taught that Wizarding Magic was superior to Elf Magic. She never considered how it was different.

Hermione glanced around the kitchen and noticed all the workers were giving her funny looks. "Um, Olivia … am I supposed to be down here?" she asked.

"Of course! You is a witch! If you worried about them nosy parkers, don't. They ain't nothing but a bunch of silly kitchen workers. Thank goodness Olivia is laundry elf. We not nearly so dim." The elf said indignantly.

She didn't like the way they were looking at Hermione. In her mind, they were being very disrespectful.

"The Headmistress said to eat something --- so Olivia gets you to eat now. When you're done, you and Olivia will get started on the decorations. Got any ideas?" she asked, hoping she didn't. She loved to decorate.

"Honestly, I don't care."

"Great!" Olivia shrieked, startling everyone in the kitchen including Hermione. The creature's ears became flat when she saw Oz throw down his mitten and walk over.

"Oh, um … okay, that's fine. Olivia does the thinking while the witch helper does the helping." She whispered.

"Olivia! Why is you making so much blasted noise?" the Head Elf asked, sneaking peeks of the Gryffindor student from the corner of his eye.

Hermione frowned.

"Sorry, Olivia feeds the Misses – then she goes."

"What is the Misses doing here? She is supposed to be in the Great Hall or class."

"Headmistresses orders, Oz. The Professor put Olivia in charge of the Misses."

The Head Elf's ears rose. "You lies! Oz should lock you in the wine cellar for your lies!" he hissed, waving his bony finger in Olivia's face.

All the kitchen elves began to whisper amongst themselves. They loved it when Olivia, the dizzy laundry elf, got into trouble.

_She is much too sassy to work at Hogwarts, _they all thought.

"She's telling the truth!" Hermione interrupted, breaking the foreman's concentration. Immediately, the room stopped chattering. All the workers looked flabbergasted while Oz looked decidedly confused.

"Begging the Misses pardon," he said, scratching his lobe. "But Oz has never heard of an elf being placed in charge of a witch."

"Well, now you have. If you have a problem with it, talk to Professor McGonagall. In the meantime, please allow Olivia to do her job."

With her chin up, Olivia looked proudly at Oz and the other elves. Yes, she was in charge.

The Head Elf took several steps back and bowed. "As the Headmistress wishes …" he said with a low snarl. He would definitely look into the matter.

After the old elf was gone, Olivia leaned into Hermione. "Thank you for getting that ol' sour pus off Olivia's back." She whispered.

Hermione tried not to laugh. "You're welcome." She smiled.

"Olivia goes and gets you breakfast now. Would you like anything special?? She can make almost anything!"

Actually, Olivia was a terrible cook but she prided herself on being able to find everything she needed already prepared. Some eggs here, some bacon there, maybe a sausage or two …

"Just toast and cereal, thanks"

"Toast and cereal it is!" she said, scrambling to fetch the witch's order.

* * *

Hermione spent much of her morning hauling boxes to and from the third floor storage room. Most of the items, such as floating candles, moving centerpieces and tiny, flying broomsticks were supported by magic but not woven from magic themselves. Olivia offered to carry the witch, via elf apparation but she refused; claiming that 'poofing' made her nauseous. Technically, poofing was cheating but without magic the process would take much longer than necessary.

Two hours and six boxes later, the workers started to complain.

"What's taking her so long?" George griped, studying the staircase for any trace of the witch.

"Yeah, why couldn't you task her with something easy, like polishing?" Porky chimed.

"Misses must go up and down several steps," Olivia defended. "And she doesn't like to poof. It makes her sick."

"Huh, uh --- well, if she keeps this up we're going to be here all day. The Headmistress said those decorations is supposed to be up by morning."

"But the party isn't until tomorrow night." Olivia said.

"Well, don't look at me. That's what the Headmistress told us last week. Master Flitwick is supposed to put the final touches on everything."

Panting, Hermione made it to the last flight. She glanced over the banister and saw three elves waiting faithfully at the bottom. They weren't allowed to help.

"Sorry, it took so long …" she said, taking a deep breath. "If I didn't know better, I'd say the staircases were purposely making things difficult. I had four of them change on me!"

"It's okay Misses, we wait." Olivia kindly offered.

George and Porky shot their elf mate a harsh glance. Maybe she didn't mind waiting but they did!

In many ways, Olivia felt sorry for the witch. It was pretty obvious that Granger wasn't accustomed to manual labor. She didn't seem spoiled, just nerdy.

When she reached the bottom, Hermione dropped the box of goodies on the floor. "Oy," she said, collapsing on the steps for a much needed break.

"That's the last one … that's the last box." She breathed.

Olivia and the others looked skeptically over the containers. Yes, that was all of them but there was much more to do.

"Okay … um, Porky … George, let's get started," she said.

The creatures snapped their fingers and one by one the heavy boxes rose up on a cloud of magic. With a flick of their risks, they effortlessly guided the boxes into the Great Hall.

Hermione scoffed. She worked her butt off to get those boxes down stairs and they moved them all in a matter of seconds.

"Let's go, Misses! There is much more work to do." Olivia smiled.

The witch sighed. "Coming …" she said tiredly.

* * *

A mass of hungry students entered the Great Hall for lunch. Malfoy, Pansy and Goyle were among the first to arrive. Smiling, they immediately honed in on the Gryffindor witch working diligently at in the corner. She was polishing centerpieces with three elves, none whom they recognized except for Olivia. As luck would have it, the bench was close to the Slytherin section.

"Reject alert," Pansy whispered.

Draco smirked but did not comment.

"Why do you suppose she's with them?" she asked.

"Who knows --- maybe she's a volunteer," Draco speculated. "There is no depth too low for a Gryffindor."

"I wouldn't be caught dead working with an elf," Goyle interjected, earning him a few dim looks.

"If you were dead, you wouldn't --- now would you?" Malfoy snorted.

Goyle laughed but only because Draco and Pansy were snickering. He hated it when Draco made remarks at his expense.

"Well, I heard she's having to do it; McGonagall is making her," he rebounded.

Malfoy brows furrowed.

"Who told you that?"

Goyle thought quickly. He couldn't tell his friends that it was Adrian who sang the tale as he suckled her clitoris that morning. No, he was sure that wouldn't go over well.

"Um, I don't remember …"

Harry, Ginny and the others entered the Great Hall shortly after the Slytherin trio. Harry spotted Hermione with the elf workers but made no attempt to sit with her. Instead, he offered the busy witch a sad wave as if to say, 'I feel sorry you'.

Hermione was so involved with her task that she didn't notice Harry but even if she had, she would've shrugged it off. It was kind of fun working with the elves.

The teachers and staff were the last to arrive. Professors McGonagall, Snape and Sweetie were among the first to be seated as the others trickled in one by one. Sweetie glanced at his charged sympathetically but knowingly. He didn't like that she had to spend her holiday helping with the festivities rather than joining them.

Minerva spied the Professor's reaction and spoke.

"It's her own fault you know," she murmured.

Nicholas glanced over.

"Yes, I know."

"Then why the long face? They're only decorations."

"It's not about the decorations … or the point loss … or the formal reprimand … or even the standing detention." Sweetie pointed out. "It's about understanding. We all make mistakes but not all mistakes are the same. Whatever scale is used to decide one's fate should be adjusted to account for all the different variables."

"Variables?" McGonagall huffed. "Nicholas, sometimes there are no variables. Sometimes people make bad choices; that's all. For that reason, the guilty have to be held accountable for their actions."

"Yes, of course …" Sweetie replied, sounding neither convinced nor impressed. He had no desire to overturn the Headmistress's opinion, merely to point out the flaws in her logic. Obviously, she wasn't ready to submit to the possibility that she may have been mistaken.

Snape overheard the exchange but said nothing. As a rule, he agreed with hard policies and even harder punishment for rule breakers but he had to admit, Sweetie had a point; at least, as far as the fight was concerned.

After lunch was served, Torres walked into the room. She entered through the main doors as always and as always, paused for her male audience. She got a kick out of watching the youngsters squirm in their seats as she moseyed down the aisle. It also made her appear more delectable. The more wizards who found her desirable the more desirable she became.

Adrian surveyed the hall and spotted Hermione working in the corner. _Well, well, well …_ she thought, turning left and sashaying towards the witch.

"Good afternoon, Miss Granger" Torres cheerfully greeted, purposely overlooking the help. They were lowly workers and would be treated as such.

Hermione blatantly ignored the Professor and continued her work. The elves observed her defiance but said nothing.

"Ahem, good afternoon."

"Good afternoon," the Gryffindor dully responded.

"Miss Granger …" Adrian softly began. "I do believe we've gotten off on the wrong foot …"

"No, I don't believe we have. I think we understand each other perfectly," Hermione interrupted, blowing the dust out the chinks and crannies of the handheld statue.

"How is that?"

Hermione stopped working and looked up.

"For starters, you don't fool me. I think we both know what you are and what you're after. Secondly, you're wise enough to believe that I could never be one of your drooling, idiot admirers so don't insult me by expecting me to act that way."

_Mm, I don't know … I've had my fair share of female admirers …_ Adrian arrogantly recalled.

"And what do you think I'm after exactly?"

"Oh, let's run down the list, shall we?" Hermione said, playfully resuming her work. "You tried to have me expelled … You've been trying to seduce Professor Snape for weeks now but to your discredit, you've failed miserably … You shamefully toy with every male that crosses your path … oh, and I almost forgot, you tried to have me expelled!"

Adrian's face changed. "So, you think I'm trying to seduce you're poor, pitiful, runt of a Potions Master? For such an intelligent girl, you're certainly are dumb; not to mention blind. Why ever would I want him when I can have any wizard I desire?" she sneered, notably forgoing the other charges.

Porky and George lowered their heads and worked faster while Olivia stayed perfectly fixated on the witches. They were discussing her Professor after all.

"Maybe you need something from him … maybe you're a gold digger or a fame seeker and you think by latching onto the Professor, it will afford you some kind of status … or perhaps, you're doing it because you're just an old fashioned loose skirt, who knows. All I know is he's not stupid or desperate enough to fall for your whorish antics, _Adrian_."

The two witches glared evenly across the table for several moments. Meanwhile, across the room their conversation caught Snape's eye. It was impossible to hear what they were saying but it was clear by their dangerous expressions, invisible sparks were flying.

_Interesting …_ he thought, suddenly noticing that Olivia was among the workers assigned to Hermione.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for addressing me so informally!" Torres eagerly announced, catching the ear of a few late comers.

Incidentally, it was Lavender and Seamus who overheard the strike. Not too far away, Malfoy and his crew clapped.

"Wow … and to think, I actually deserved that one." Hermione smiled, irritating Torres even more.

Fuming silently, the witch turned and walked haughtily towards the High Table. She passed several Slytherins, including Goyle but she didn't offer him so much as a hello or warm smile. Draco and the others didn't care but as usual, Gregory noticed.

_She's up for a good buggering …_ he thought, stabbing his food angrily.

* * *

Hermione was painting a small figurine when Snape approached the bench. She was so engrossed in her chore that she didn't notice the Professor walk up. It wasn't until his shadow fully eclipsed her table that she noticed him there.

"Hey! You're blocking my ---" she paused. "Oh … er, hello, Professor"

"I would like you to stop by Potions later," he plainly informed.

Porky and George perked up. They were more than ready to rid themselves of the magically restricted witch.

"I'm not sure if I can, Professor … I've been assigned to help." she explained, gesturing towards the elves.

"Oh no, Misses, we can handle it! Honest!" George and Porky chimed.

Olivia scowled at her elf mates.

"Well, there you go. You're _co-workers_ can handle the load. So, I'll see you at 7:00?"

"Yes sir but why?" Hermione asked.

"I have some cauldrons that require scrubbing." He replied, turning towards the exit.

"But …"

"Don't be late," he said, walking away.

Hermione's eyes filled with daggers. Yes, standing detention meant he could call upon her anytime but he couldn't have picked a more inconvenient night. She had things to do; more importantly, she didn't feel like scrubbing gunk encrusted cauldrons.

"Pass me the gold," Hermione snapped.

Porky happily obliged.

_I can't believe he wants me to serve detention tonight of all nights; to scrub pots no less!_

* * *

"Enter," Snape calmly ordered.

Hermione walked inside, closed the door and tread uncaringly towards the head of the classroom. She was thoroughly exhausted. She'd been lifting, painting, polishing and running errands all day long.

"Good evening, Miss Granger."

"Good evening, Professor. So, where are they?" she said hardheartedly.

Snape studied the Gryffindor.

"The cauldrons are over there," he gently pointed. "You will find safety gloves and cleaner in the cabinet. Do be careful, the extracts are known to stain."

"Okay," she said, yawning a bit.

Hovering over his papers, Severus observed the witch from the corner of his eye. He brought her there to talk but it seemed she was too tired. In retrospect, perhaps tonight wasn't the best night to insist that she serve.

(Clonk, Bang, Clank, Bing)

"What in God's name are you doing over there?!" Snape hissed, springing from his seat.

"You asked me to scrub these pots, did you not?"

"Quietly, Miss Granger! Quietly! What is that racket? What are you using?"

"Um, gloves … scrub brush … lemon juice for strong odors … scrubbing pad … gunk chipper … acid rinse for those tough stains and cauldron gum for cracks --- just the standard stuff."

Snape frowned. _Still the little know-it-all …_

"Well, keep it down. I'm trying to work." He grumbled.

"So, am I," Hermione grumbled back.

Over the next hour, the wizard experienced more of the same despite his repeated attempts to scowl and berate the witch into silence.

'I'm just doing my job,' she'd innocently reply.

But the witch was anything but innocent. She was taking some fun-filled frustrations out on the Professor by disrupting his peace with a little bit of ruckus. Every so often, she'd drop a cauldron into the sink resulting in a loud clang-thud for which she always apologized. Of course, she would time it so that it came after a clamor-free moment. Other times, she'd bang her brush handle against the edge of the pot which had a clunk-like reverberating effect on the room. Severus shot the witch dirty looks whenever she'd scold the gunk for not breaking loose quickly enough.

Setting the small upsets aside, the worst of the annoyances came from the scrubbing. Most of the witch's time was spent scouring pots. She would scrub them so hard that the constant scratching made Snape's skin crawl. Yet, he endured. It had become a battle of self-control and he would not lose.

He was mistaken.

The breaking point came when Hermione spit into one of the cauldrons. She did it without thinking and without intention but that was the final straw.

"Granger…?"

"Sir?"

"Did you just spit into that base?" he said, purely shocked by her actions.

"Ahem, yes sir … there was no need for me to get up and go to the sink for a little water," she said, wiping her sweaty brow.

Snape glared at the witch. "You may stop," he informed, forgoing any discussion on the horrid lunacy of the act.

"Really?"

"Yes, really --- you're finished. Pack your things and return to Gryffindor Tower." He said, returning to his papers.

Hermione removed her gloves and threw them into the cauldron.

"What about those?" she asked.

"I will do them myself. Good night, Miss Granger."

The witch gawked at the pots. She hated leaving anything unfinished; more importantly, she didn't want him to change his mind and ask her back there to finish.

"Are you sure? I don't mind."

"Quite sure --- good night," he stiffly replied.

"Truly?"

"Yes, truly…"

"Are you absolutely certain?"

"Yes!" Snape snapped, glancing up from his parchments. "Tell me; is it punishment you seek or merely my company? I can't imagine you find either very pleasant!"

Hermione considered the question for a moment.

"No, sir … I'm not seeking more punishment. I just thought I'd finish." She said yawning. "And as far as the company goes, you're the best I've had all week."

Snape made it a point to sneer but inwardly, her answer surprised him.

"Granger, I don't know whether to pity you or banish you from sight for pulling my leg."

"It's true. Lavender has nearly everyone convinced I'm some kind of crazed witch or something; that Ron has me so distraught, I'm a shoe in for St. Mungos psycho ward. It's weird really. I would have never guessed that my housemates would have turned on me so easily or that Ron and Brown would have taken off the way they did."

Snape said nothing. Hermione didn't know what to make of his silence but she continued talking anyway.

"Well, anyway, the work has been good for me. I haven't had to deal with my housemates and I made a new friend today. Her name is, Olivia. She's a laundry elf." said Hermione, seating herself at a desk. "She and I worked on the decorations with two kitchen elves named Porky and George. Porky is pretty upbeat but George is a tad cranky. Still, once you get used to him, he's not so bad. He reminds me of you ---" Hermione paused.

Snape absorbed her rosy cheeks with a smirk.

"Is that right?" he said, leaning back.

"I meant that in a good way, Professor."

"I'm sure."

"Anyway, except for that horrid witch, Professor Torres, the three of us had a nice afternoon."

Severus's brow twitched.

"Torres … what does she have to do with anything?"

Hermione toyed with her fingers as she considered her answer. She didn't want to risk sounding foolish by presenting an unsound theory.

"She's not a good person … that's all," she said hesitantly.

"And why would you say that?" recalling the incident at lunch.

The witch began to fidget.

"Well, she tried to have me expelled for starters."

"Ah, yes ... well, you may have a right to feel wronged. That was none of Professor Torres's business. However, there are many in her position that would have pushed for the same thing."

Hermione conceded with a nod but there were several reasons she didn't like Torres; that was just one.

"By the way, what were you doing with my file? I have a right to know." Snape said deceptively calm. Inside, he was yearning to know more.

Hermione colored in spite of herself.

"I'd rather not talk about it, Professor."

"I would," he combated. "Miss Granger, did you swipe the file from the locked cabinets in the infirmary? Did you intend to sell it to the tabloids or ---"

"No!" Hermione defended. "Absolutely, not! I swear Professor Snape, that file came to me by accident!"

"Accident, you say?"

Hermione closed her eyes and collected herself. When she opened them again, Snape was studying her carefully. For reasons he couldn't explain, he believed the witch. He didn't suspect her of treachery.

"You gave it to me," she answered.

The wizard took a deep, cynical breath as he reached for his quill and inkwell. If that's the way she wanted to play it, fine. He had more important things to do than listen to wild stories.

"It's true. It happened when I was copying those accident reports for you. There, at the bottom of the stack, was your medical file. I don't know how it got there but that's how I got it."

Snape's eyes immediately honed in on two miscellaneous ingredients. Not only were they wrong but the student failed to follow simple directions. He was instructed to write on one side but the numbskull didn't listen. Now, Severus had to read through seeping ink and black blotches. Sometimes he had to wonder if he was in the right profession or not.

_Idiot …_

"I would be willing to testify under veritaserum," the witch said a moment later.

The Potions Master stopped reading and looked over.

"Come again?"

"I would be willing to testify under veritaserum," she repeated.

"As I'm sure you know, Miss Granger that is _forbidden_. However, if you're truly interested in proving your innocence to me … I shall prepare a batch. It will be our little secret."

"Fair enough, but what happens when you learn the truth, what then??"

Snape adjusted his cuffs as he spoke.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there but in the meantime, let's assume you're being honest. That being the case, why did you keep the file? Why not return it?"

Hermione's heart dropped. Lately, she'd been so consumed with Ron and Lavender that she had set aside her little infatuation with the Professor. Now, she forced to ponder the strange obsession she felt towards him; the wizard she read about. The answer was simple really. The file was her only connection to the dark wizard outside of the classroom. As silly as it sounded, having it made her feel like she knew him personally and knowing things, intimate things only fanned the flames of her slowly maturing desire.

When Hermione didn't answer, Snape looked up. He was taken aback by what he saw. She looked confused, terrified even. He hadn't meant to frighten her but her fright was fascinating. Not once had he seen Hermione Granger look that way; like a fox in a fox trap.

"Ahem, Professor … I'm sorry, may we finish this discussion another time?"

_She's stalling ..._

"Is something the matter?" he asked, studying her glowing red cheeks.

"It must've been the combination of cleaners. I don't feel so well …" said Hermione.

Snape balked at the thought of the witch vomiting in his classroom. And judging by her current state, she definitely looked as if she was ready to blow chunks everywhere.

"Yes, certainly – go, please." He said, waving her off.

"Thank you," she said standing up.

"Would you care for something?" Snape offered, not wanting the witch to leave sick. "I have several antidotes in the back."

Hermione was halfway to the door. "Um, no --- that's okay, Professor. I think I just need some fresh air." she replied.

"Don't be ridiculous. I have a chalk liquid that's sure to…"

"No!" she squealed. "Thank you, I'll be fine. Good night, Professor."

Snape was preparing to object when Hermione slammed the door. Afterwards, he just sat there and stared after her empty desk for several moments.

"Good night …" he said to an empty classroom.

* * *

**A/C:** Bring on the ball! I think Snape will dance in the next chapter, albeit reluctantly. If anyone should come across any major mistakes, please let me know. I'll correct them tonight. Thanks!


	30. Masks and Misgivings

The night of Hogwarts's first Annual Masquerade Banquet came quickly. As commencement neared, couples and singles began pouring out of their perspective dormitories. It seemed everyone, from Gryffindor to Slytherin, had the same idea; particularly the wizards. They all wore simple black half masks and standard dress robes, making it easy for their feminine counterparts to outshine them. The girl's masks were elaborately decorated with beads, feathers, paint, and sequence. As expected, all the masks reflected their hostess's outfit and nearly all of them were worn off the face with a handle or stick.

Olivia waited for Hermione outside the Fat Lady's portrait. As the students exited, she poked her head inside to see if the witch coming. All she saw was a warm glow at the end of a tunnel-like hall and a sea of bodies darkening its entrance. Soon, a group of young wizards came rushing out and nearly collided with the eager half pint.

"Oops, sorry --- what? Hey, watch it!" they gripped.

Olivia apologized. In retrospect, she shouldn't have been blocking the doorway but once again, her curiosity had gotten the better of her. It wasn't long before the departing crowd thinned out. The elf sighed worriedly as the clock neared 7:00. They were expected at their stations by 6:30 and the witch had not yet emerged.

"It's been many minutes. Where could the Misses be?" she said to herself.

"You there," the Fat Lady addressed. "Why are you lingering out here?"

"Olivia waits for the witch named, Granger."

"Hermione Granger? Mm, that's curious. Why?" the nosy painting asked.

Olivia folded her arms, leaned against the banister and shot the Fat Lady an imperious look that said, 'you isn't important enough to know'. It seemed elves and unnamed portraits were viewed as equals and given the same amount of respect by everyone, including each other.

"Ooh, you little ingrate! I asked you a question."

"Olivia doesn't answer to you," she said indignantly. "You is just magic and paint."

The Fat Lady frowned.

"Well, I never ...! If I was still alive, I'd … I'd …"

About that time, Hermione opened the door and unknowingly swung the Fat Lady's blistering face into the wall.

"Miss, is that you?" Olivia said uncertainly.

"Yes, it's me, Hermione. Is anyone out there?" she shushed.

"No, the hall is clear. What is you wearing? What did you do to your hair?!"

Hermione smiled awkwardly.

"Um, I charmed it. How do you like my dress?" she said, whirling around.

Olivia looked the witch up and down. Her hair was incredibly dark, the color of chocolate and she wearing a pale yellow chiffon gown. It was overly simplistic, with very little bead work around the form fitting bust but like any good stylist, her mask made up for what her dress lacked. It was also pale yellow but heavily beaded and covered her eyes, cheeks and nose. The corners were accented with long feathers that drooped down and framed her jaw. Her lips, the only exposed part of her face, were drenched in a shimmering, peach gloss.

"Olivia doesn't recognize the Misses," the elf answered honestly.

"Wonderful! That's the idea. I'm going incognito. Hopefully, no one will notice me."

Unfortunately, the term 'incognito' was lost on the poor, illiterate elf. All she knew was that the Misses didn't want to be seen.

"We must go. We is due at our stations. You has been assigned to serve punch."

"I was hoping for something less … public," the witch said wearily.

"You can have Olivia's job, if you want."

"Really?"

"Olivia has been asked to pick up dirty plates and cups."

Hearing that, Hermione quickly changed her mind. The last she needed was to be spotted bussing tables. Though she had stubbornly refused the Headmistress's offer on principle, deep down, the idea of serving her foes at a social function was embarrassing. She had no desire to make it worse.

"Um, no …, the punch bowel will be fine, thanks." She said. "I guess we should go …"

Olivia happily complied.

* * *

Adrian finished the final touches on her brew and added it carefully to a small bottle which she slipped into her cleavage. When she was done, she put on her sparkling shoes and walked over to the mirror. The Spanish beauty admired her form fitting gown one last time. The yellow satin dress seemed to compliment her flawless complexion, coffee rich hair and peachy crème lips. Smiling, she slipped on her matching mask with extending feathers and walked out.

* * *

As his contribution to the event, Professor Snape appointed himself overseer of general conduct and questioned the students as they entered the Great Hall. He made certain that no one entered the hall with any prank objects or illicit supplies. Though McGonagall seemed to think it was unnecessary, Snape argued that more than one function had been sullied as a result of similar devices in the past.

"Empty your pockets," he told Seamus Finnigan.

"But sir, I'm not …"

"Do not make me repeat myself."

Finnigan did as he was instructed but to the wizard's disappointment, the young Irishman was innocent of any wrong doing.

_Oh, well … maybe next time_, he thought.

"You may proceed," Snape informed.

Finnigan stormed into the Great Hall with his date. "Geez, you'd think he'd lighten up," he complained.

Severus overheard the Gryffindor's comment and snorted. Why should he ease up? Nothing had changed.

"Still keeping us safe, I see …" Torres flirted from the staircase. "It must be in your nature."

Snape glanced over.

"Good evening, Adrian," he said civilly, helplessly glimpsing an eyeful of her cleavage.

The witch feigned offense. "How did you know it was me?" she pouted.

Had Severus answered truthfully, he would have pointed out her distinctive, sex slur but being the silver tongued devil he was, he lied.

"Lucky guess."

Adrian peeked inside the hall. Everything was immaculately decorated, far more splendidly than she would have imagined. Hogwarts was rather unsophisticated in her opinion; perhaps, due to its age. Adrian was a modern witch, with modern ideas and tastes; such as the Venetian Masquerade proposal. She seriously doubted the forest witches and wizards of Hogwarts would have come up with that idea on their own.

_They actually managed to make it look respectable ..._

"Will you be joining the staff this evening? Or were you planning to patrol for cherry bombs and cigars all night?"

Snape shuffled. He didn't much care for her tone.

"A little of both but I suspect patrolling mostly."

Adrian kindly removed a speck of lint from his vest coat. She flicked it meaningfully from her finger, as if ridding him of something disgusting. Snape ignored the gesture but inside, he found her flamboyancy irksome.

"Since you didn't dress for the occasion, I had to ask."

Severus's eyes flashed with nerve. Plainly, the witch required a lesson in English etiquette and his preferred style. He never wore in anything special. He favored his stark black robes over contemporary garbs because they were more comfortable. And since they were more formal than most people's day wear, he was always elegantly dressed.

Rather than commenting, the wizard nodded. He was no _master of charm_ but when the situation called for it, he was still a gentleman.

"I will see you inside," he ended.

Adrian brushed passed the Professor, intentionally grazing his shoulder for effect. Severus quickly stepped aside and allowed the witch more liberty. He watched her sashay towards the other teachers, secretly debating her motives. Yes, Adrian was still tempting despite her obvious flaws but the more he conversed with the single minded witch, the more he disliked her. He needed something other than a mere outlet and though there might be dozens, if not, a hundred wizards clamoring to object; he was a man who'd grown accustomed to waiting. Still, with no immediate prospects in sight, how long could he last? The clock was ticking and offers like Adrian Torres's didn't come long every day; that is, if it was still on the table. Of that, he couldn't be entirely sure.

"Ahem, to begin … I would like to wish everyone a Happy Halloween," said McGonagall in the distance.

Severus examined the corridor as the Headmistress continued her speech. It appeared everyone had arrived. Whatever few lagged, would have the good fortune of going unchecked. Just as he was preparing to enter, he glimpsed a faint sparkle in the corner of the hall. It was emanating from one of the four large hourglasses. Being the inquisitive wizard he was; he slunk over for a better look.

The emeralds, representing Slytherin, were aglow; most likely, from the magically altered torchlight. The pumpkin and lavender shimmers were reacting with the magic inside the stones, causing them to flicker wildly.

_Lovely …_

Snape had never given much thought to magical accents but maybe Professor Flitwick was onto something. Perhaps, the Headmistress would consider keeping the colored lights year around. They seemed to add to the entrance's allure but more importantly, Slytherin's gems. Not only were they sparkling brilliantly, which was something he'd never seen, but they were second only to Ravenclaw in points. Hufflepuff was third and Gryffindor was dead last.

Snape gloated when he noticed Gryffindor's rubies dwindling below the half mark. It had been years since his House's rival had trailed so far behind. In recent years, Harry and his fool hearted antics managed to bring Gryffindor from the brink of dishonor every term.

_Potter …_ he frowned, gliding over to Godric's statuette.

As if searching for an answer to a question he did not have, Snape gazed into the pillar of gems. They too shone brightly in the firelight, complimenting their House element with a fiery brilliance that had gone unnoticed until that moment.

Since losing Lily and becoming a spy, Severus had lived his life day-to-day. Even before Voldemort's return, he lived each moment in secret shame, mourning and trepidation. He longed for peace ... freedom from fear and disgrace but with each passing year, he buried any hope of redemption deep within. It was strange that in this unsung moment, he felt it; or at least, a glimmer of it. However, it was excruciatingly intangible; like sparkles of light.

Standing there, Snape began to sift through a series of memories.

"_Severus, my friend, peace is not forged through pretty words and olive branches; not like it is in books. No matter how much blood is shed in its name, it will not last forever. No, no … I'm afraid peace is more like sand. It's soft, beautiful and fleeting. If the winds of change are powerful enough --- destructive enough, it will scatter everything in its path. All you can do is have hope; hope that even if the worst should come, that you can rebuild …"_ said Albus, many years prior.

Severus couldn't help but wonder how long the sand castles of his world would stand before succumbing to the winds of change. Would he ever be allowed to put his demons to rest? How long before the next dark sorcerer rose to power? Would it be within his lifetime? Was his way of life, the wizarding life, slowly becoming extinct? Was their way of life endangered as Draco suggested? Was everything the Order fought for in vain? How long would his kind continue to hide from the Muggles? Should they?

That question, despite his service to the Order, would forever haunt Severus. It was his abusive Muggle father who first taught him, trust no one. After Tobias's death, he justly converted his father's only wisdom into, _trust nothing that isn't magical_.

Severus's internal debate came to a halt when a single glint caught his eye. One of the rubies in Gryffindor's glass was twinkling strangely; as if sputtering. Snape leaned in for a closer look and saw that a few of the gems were different. They weren't as radiant as the others. They were also more garnet in color which contrasted their scarlet neighbors.

_Odd …_ he thought, briefly considering the themed torchlight as a possible cause.

"Severus?" he heard someone say.

Snape turned back to find his dearest of colleagues, Madam Pomfrey, standing in the doorway.

"Yes, Poppy."

"Stop brooding and come inside. You're missing everything," she scolded.

Snape shot the witch his best, heavy lid scowl. "Oh, do-dah," he stoically mocked.

* * *

When Hermione first entered the Great Hall, she was amazed by the level of detail Flitwick and Sprout had put into everything. The House benches were replaced with round tables, draped in black cloth and strategically centered in the corners of the room. This left the middle of the floor open for dancing and socializing. The hall's torches rotated in burn, changing every few minutes from pale purple to pumpkin orange. There was also a light fog creeping over the floor and a harvest moon above. As in previous years, jack-o-lanterns and tiny enchanted brooms graced the skyline.

Mister Filch was placed in charge of the record player. It was obvious by his choice in music that he favored traditional songs but thanks to Filius's constant nagging, he was forced to put on a rock record every so often. The High Table was converted into a huge buffet, lined with countless finger foods and rich desserts. There was even a small gargoyle fountain in the rear of the room but instead of water, it was charmed to spew fog. It was that fog that spilled onto the floor, creating the eerie mist.

Hermione stood dutiful at her post, serving student after student; including a few arch rivals. No one asked who she was because everyone assumed she was a member of the faculty or at the very least, a student volunteer. She helped to support that idea by smiling graciously and not speaking.

Severus watched dully as members of his House and others took to the dance floor. Occasionally, he would wander out into the mass to stop a few overzealous wizards from shamefully groping their partners. When no one was looking, he'd save himself the trouble and zap their roaming fingers with a well trained hex.

"Randy retards," he'd grumbled. He wasn't the morality police but hated that they didn't exercise better judgment by conducting their private business, privately.

After several dances, Lavender and Ron approached the beverage table. Though they were masked, it wasn't difficult to figure out who they were. Ron was poorly disguised and Lavender kept lifting her mask to fan her face. Hermione was also hot but her mask was tied on with a ribbon.

"Um, I'll have the orange one," she said in a chipper tone. "And you, Won?"

Hermione faked a grin and poured the witch her drink.

"Uh, just give me the purple." He said.

"Purple? Oh no, the orange is much better. Give him the orange," she corrected.

Hermione hesitated. She waited for Ron to speak up and tell the brat he wanted purple but he didn't.

"Yeah, okay --- orange is fine, give me the orange."

Hermione counted back from ten; then slung the cocktail into its glass. With a counterfeit grin, she handed the wizard his drink. Just as Ron was about to take the glass, she let go of the rim. It immediately fell to the floor and spattered all over Lavender's white satin shoes.

The witch yelped. Snape, who was making his rounds, stopped to see what the commotion was all about. When he saw it was just Miss Brown making an undue fuss, he moved on.

"My shoes!" she exclaimed.

Hermione clutched her chest surprisingly but said nothing.

"It's okay, don't worry. We'll go get my wand. I'll have you cleaned up in a jiffy." said Ron. He couldn't risk spoiling her mood by being insensitive. The wizard knew that an upset girlfriend, especially one that put out as much as Lavender, equated to a miserable boyfriend with blue balls.

"Oh, they're ruined …" she whined.

"No, they're not! They just need to be scourified."

Lavender rolled her eyes. She doubted whether scourifying her shoes would have any effect. They were badly stained. She was sorely tempted to scold the server for her carelessness but quickly thought the better of it. What if she was a teacher? This was supposed to be a masked event. It wasn't like everyone was going around asking everyone else who they were.

"Come on," she pouted, grabbing her beau by the arm and dragging him towards the door. "She could've apologized at least!"

Hermione refrained from laughing but only barely. She quickly stopped smiling when she spotted the Headmistress eyeing the beverage stand suspiciously. McGonagall didn't recognize the server and since it was Oz who assigned the tasks, she didn't know Hermione was serving drinks that evening.

Minerva lost interest in Hermione the moment Professor Sweetie approached. He brielfly looked at the server before asking McGonagall a question that made her blush. Afterwards, he winked at Hermione and led the elder witch out onto the dance floor.

"I'll have a glass of the purple," said Adrian, not recognizing the witch.

Hermione nodded and poured the DADA instructor a full glass, hoping like hell she would spill it on herself.

"Mm … this is good. Did you make it?" she asked, her eyes flickering over the server's dress. It was very similar to hers.

Hermione answered with a headshake.

"Well, it's quite edible. Curious .... what made you decide on yellow chiffon??"

Yellow was Adrian's favorite color because it had Spanish roots.

The server shrugged. Had Hermione known Torres would be wearing a similar dress, she would have shown up in jeans and a sweater.

"Mm … I see, you wish to keep to the mysterious motif of the banquet, is that right?"

The observation earned Adrian a simple nod.

"How nice … you know, this whole thing was my idea. Did anyone tell you that?"

Hermione glared at the witch from behind her feathery mask.

"It was! But alas, I didn't receive the credit I deserved."

_Credit? Credit? What did you do?! I don't recall you lifting a finger! _The Gryffindor raged.

Adrian reached into her cleavage and pulled out a small black bottle. She discreetly poured its shimmery blue contents into her glass in full view of the server.

"Headache drought," she feebly explained.

Hermione was familiar with basic medicinal potions and that was no headache drought.

_Blue … blue … what shimmers blue?_ She thought, trying to recall something she read once.

"Good evening," the Professor bided.

Hermione studied Torres carefully. She followed her through the crowd and across the room, not taking her eyes off the witch once. Not even to serve drinks. Whenever someone asked, she blindly poured whatever she had in her hand, not caring if they got what they wanted or not. A few students walked away complaining about the service but Hermione didn't care.

After a moment, she saw Torres approach Professor Snape and offer him her drink. He happily accepted and took a generous swallow.

_Snape! She just fed that drink to Snape!_

* * *

"I tasted it myself, it's quite good." Adrian said.

Severus frowned. "It tastes a little bitter to me," he remarked after a huge gulp.

Adrian waited for the potion to take affect before she asked her next question.

"Would you care to dance?" she inquired, noticing a certain haze developing in the Potions Master's eyes.

"Uh … no, I don't think so," he slurred, looking around the room as if something had suddenly changed but he didn't know what. All at once, the room took on a dreamy sheen.

_The lights … it must be the lights,_ Snape thought.

"Perhaps, later …" he said seconds later.

Had the wizard been thinking clearly, he would have remembered he couldn't dance.

Adrian smiled triumphantly.

* * *

"Olivia! Olivia!" she urged in a hush tone, motioning the creature to come over.

The elf was collecting dirty dishes when she saw Hermione waving.

"Yes, Misses … what is it?" she said, hurrying over.

"I need you to watch my post," Hermione spat. She had to reach Snape and get him away from that scheming tramp.

In retrospect, she should've flagged down a teacher, or better yet, the Headmistress but Hermione wasn't sure if McGonagall would believe her; especially, after giving her so much cheek the day before.

"Olivia has to collect dishes," the elf said worriedly. She didn't want to get into trouble.

"Give me your wash cloth. We'll trade posts!"

"Okays …" she said, throwing the witch her towel. "But why you want to do that job, Olivia doesn't know. It's not as good as punch serving."

"Thank you, Olivia. I'll explain everything later." said Hermione, scampering off.


	31. Butterfly Kisses

Hermione glided through the parade of masks and chattering bystanders without much thought as to why she was hastening to the Professor's rescue. Logic was irrelevant. All she knew was that she had to get there and stop Adrian. As Hermione drew closer, she heard a man's voice over the crowd. It sounded like he was chuckling. The witch bobbed and weaved over the heads of couples to get a better look at what she was hearing. She was amazed to find Professor Snape smirking over his cocktail.

_Maybe it really was a headache drought …_ she thought.

Though Hermione's righteous star was more like a fluttering firefly, she felt strongly that something was amiss; that Adrian was up to no good and whatever she was plotting went beyond snagging a little stardom. True, her opinion of the DADA instructor was permanently skewed after Torres tried to have her expelled but her distrust of the witch didn't begin or end there.

Hermione's mouth dropped when she saw the pair merge with the other dancers.

_I don't believe it …! _

Using Adrian's arm for balance, Severus walked unsteadily into the crowd of young witches and wizards. He wasn't thinking at this point, merely obeying; otherwise, he would've objected to the crowd and unfamiliar setting.

Many of the teachers stopped what they were doing and watched. Everyone was amazed that the snarky hero was giving the floor a whirl; especially, Potter and his band. They all had the same dumbstruck look on their faces.

"Is that Snape?" said Ginny.

Some of the dancers slowed down long enough to sneak a peek of the couple. They didn't want Snape to catch them staring but opportunities like this didn't come around every day.

"Take my waist," Adrian softly instructed.

Severus did as he was told. For reasons he couldn't explain, he felt a pressing need to comply. Within moments, a warm surge spread through his body and his dangling bits, resulting in a whirlwind of sensations. The wizard felt free, confident ... alive; more alive than he could ever remember feeling. Suddenly, he was void of the gloom and self-doubt he had come to call his soul. Severus felt like a new man. Clenching his partner's waist, he stepped forward; applying all his weight to Torres's unsuspecting foot.

"Ouch!" she spat, buckling under the pressure.

"I'm sorry," Severus grimaced; his elation taking a backseat to the mishap.

"Oh, no --- it's okay. I'm fine, really," Adrian lied. "Let's start over."

Snape caressed the witch's hand and tried again. After a few paces, he stepped on her other foot. Though it hurt, Adrian reacted with a tempered smile.

_Idiot!_ She raged.

Severus didn't notice his partner was upset. He was far too occupied with the radiance of the room. Everything felt right; the teachers, the dancers, the workers ... even the witch in his arms. She was aglow in her yellow gown and mask. Her full lips took on a hypnotic, dreamy quality that even the snarkiest of all bastards could not refuse. She could ask him anything and he would do it.

_The things that mouth could do for me …_ his loins responded.

Minutes into the dance, Adrian exhaled an annoyed breath. The wizard was all over her but not in a good way. He was sloppy, intrusive and obvious; worst of all, he was gawking. It wouldn't be long before he started to drool like some drunken Scot.

_That's the last time I substitute ingredients … _she thought._  
_

Adrian faked a smile for those watching. "Feel free to move around," she said through gritted teeth.

Snape began to shuffle from side-to-side. He lacked the grace and rhythm to perform admirably but at least some of the onlookers were losing interest.

* * *

"Is that … why yes; yes, it is! That's Severus dancing," said Minerva, twirling with Nicholas to a ghostly orchestra. "Who is that he's with?"

Nicholas glanced in the wizard's direction. He was hovering so closely, one might suspect she was leading. Severus was barely moving his feet; perhaps, an inch or two per step. Now in his altered reality, he was spiraling with the best of them but in the real world, Severus was moving about as fast as a one-legged centenarian on a walker.

"I don't know," Sweetie wisely answered.

"Well, I'm dying to find out. Let's move closer." she replied.

"Minerva, dear, nosiness doesn't become you." He staunchly informed. "There are only a handful of possibilities … does it really matter? Let the man enjoy himself."

McGonagall smiled in spite of herself but his chastising tone was a bit humbling. "I suppose you're right but I can't help but wonder if something is wrong. I mean … just look at him. He looks as if he's about to keel over. I've known Severus for many years and I've never known him to drink but if I didn't know better, I'd say …"

"Have you ever seen him dance?" Nicholas kindly interrupted.

Minerva paused to think. "Uh, no … I can't say I have." She admitted.

"Then let's assume that is the way he dances." The old man smiled, spinning the witch so skillfully that she chortled.

* * *

Hermione plopped down in an empty chair and observed the duo from distance. The constant montage of whirling gowns and glittery masks made the Professor's shortcomings, seem less short. She really didn't notice that he couldn't dance. She was more consumed by the fact he _was_ dancing … publicly, no less.

_So much for cluing him in on Torres's scheme …_ the witch thought, losing sight of the tainted drink to a horde of glasses lying everywhere.

"Is you going to get those?" Porky said trotting up.

Hermione rolled her eyes and slapped the table. She really didn't feel like working.

"Oh, um ... Porky is sorry, Professor," he corrected. "He did not recognize you."

The witch replied with a frown but just as she was about to rebuke the claim, a light came on in her head. To the passing eye, she and Torres looked very much alike. Even their hair resembled one another in shade and style. No, the similarities weren't enough to fool the average person but they might be enough to fool an elf.

"Ahem … see that it doesn't happen again," she said in her best Spanish accent.

Porky quickly went about his business, hoping like heck the elf-hating mistress went about hers. The witch had already chastised one worker that night.

"Pookie, is it?"

"Porky," the servant nervously corrected.

"Whatever," she said, playing up her role. "Who is that? There, on the dance floor with Professor Snape?"

Porky turned around. His big green eyes became tiny green slits when he spotted the Gryffindor delinquent dancing with the Potions Master.

"That is the Granger girl! Porky would know that feathery mask anywhere. She is supposed to be serving punch! Maybe she figures if she dances with a teacher, she can get out of work." He reasoned.

"Tut, tut … shouldn't you do something?"

The elf scratched his head for a moment. "Porky go tells the Headmistress," he decided.

"No!" Hermione hissed, nearly exploding from her chair.

The elf flinched.

"I mean … do you want to be responsible for ruining her night with bad news?"

Porky glanced over.

McGonagall and Sweetie had finished dancing and were now engrossed in conversation with Professors Firenze and Flitwick. Admittedly, the Headmistress looked content. News of any sort by put her in a bad way.

"Um, no … Porky, reckons not." He said, pausing to consider his options. "Porky go gets the witch himself," he put forth.

Hermione smirked. "Now, you're thinking," she evenly commented.

Porky stomped off, determined to take care of the witch himself. "She's not getting off that easy!" he ranted.

Once the elf was safely out of sight, Hermione followed; hurrying into the sea of bodies, mist and lights.

The tiny servant managed to avoid being trampled as he waded through a mix of bouncy, half-crazed students. The beat had changed and a newer, flashier song was now playing. Snape, of course, didn't notice. He was absently enjoying a slow waltz with Adrian.

"Perhaps, we should sit down," she suggested after bumping into several raging sixth years making their rounds.

Snape couldn't hear anything over the cheers, music and colorful ambiances. The elixir she slipped him was an hallucinogen infused with veritaserum and a subtle lust potion. It was intended to relax and unleash the wizard but from where she was standing, it may have stunted his cooperation as well.

"Severus, are you listening to me?" she asked.

Snape looked down. He could see the witch's lips moving but he was having difficulty processing her request.

"Misses! Misses!" Porky called out.

Torres ignored the creature. She had no reason to believe he was looking for her. It wasn't until she felt something tugging on her hemline that she bothered to look down.

"Misses, what is you doing out here?! You is supposed to be at your post!"

Adrian appeared thoroughly confused. "What? Get your creepy hands off of me! You … you …" she said, yanking her dress away.

"Save it," said Porky, flipping his palm to the witch. "You has broken the rules."

"I have no idea what you're talking about you stupid little ingrate!"

The elf swelled with resentment. Porky wasn't your average simpleton. He was born and raised at Hogwarts and he knew his rights. Students weren't supposed to insult elves. Granted, little could be done or said if they did but they weren't supposed to do it.

"Headmistress said if you didn't show up, we should come find her ... but Porky says she is having too much fun to be bothered. He is going to take you straight to her office and you can wait there!"

Torres became incensed by the prospect of a lowly elf ordering her around. Any other time, she would have whipped out her wand and turned the insolent creature into a crawly maggot but the last she needed to do was to draw attention to herself or her drugged partner.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," she quietly snarled, not wishing to cause a scene. "Severus lets go. This … this … thing has ruined my mood!"

Amused, Snape folded his arms and observed. He vaguely comprehended what was going on but he didn't care. He was more interested in the waves of pink and orange auras surrounding the feuding pair.

"You is a naughty witch! You is coming with Porky before you gets us all into trouble!" He spat, snatching the witch's wrist and disappearing from the dance floor.

Adrian vanished amidst a howl, leaving a slightly stunned wizard in her wake. Several moments passed before it dawned on Snape that the elf had disappeared with his only shag.

_Pity …_ he thought. Somewhere in his fogged up mind, the wizard hoped their waltz would have led to something more physical.

"Go ahead, Professor! Get down!" one boy shouted, catching him off guard.

Snape stood awkwardly in place, suddenly aware of his predicament. He was abandoned and alone on the dance floor. Unsure what to do next, he rounded on his environment. There were flickering lights and students partying in every direction. There were so many of them and they all seemed to be clamoring for his attention. Some of his charges noticed that he looked a bit nervous; particularly those dancing, but everyone just assumed the wizard had been taken in by a pretty face; Torres's face. Now that she had taken on off, he was on unfamiliar terf.

"Professor …" Hermione said, bursting through a group of thrashing Ravenclaws.

Snape spun around to find Adrian had returned.

"That was fast." he said, a bit relieved. "Curious … how did you manage to convince the elf to set you free?"

Hermione blinked. _What?_

"Did you hex him?" he asked.

Hermione moved closer. She knew something was very wrong the moment their eyes locked. His pupils were dilated and his blood vessels were inflamed. Not to mention, he should have known she wasn't Adrian; having already seen the witch up close.

"Professor…? It's H---" she began. "Ahem ... we should return to our seats."

Snape replied with a sloppy nod. "Lead the way," he said.

Hermione guided the Professor off the dance floor. A few heads followed them to their table but for the most part, everyone was too busy socializing to care what their un-hip, Potions Master was doing.

"Professor, look at me." Hermione said, cuffing the wizard's chin.

Severus obeyed but only because he had too; the elixir was making him comply.

Hermione examined Snape for signs of poisoning but found nothing. She was confident that whatever Adrian slipped him wasn't fatal. It was also unlikely she gave him something for the sake of amusement. No, no. Whatever her goal; the elixir's purpose was to help her accomplish it. There were hundreds of possibilities and at least a dozen potions to accomplish each one; but where to start?

_Porky won't be able to hold Torres for long …_ Hermione thought, suddenly worried the witch might return.

"Professor, how do you feel?" she asked, not bothering to disguise her voice.

"Fine …"

"Are you certain? Do you understand what's going on?"

Snape observed his partner curiously. "Yes," he delayed.

"I want you to focus, Professor. I need to ask you something and I want you to consider your answer very carefully."

The wizard nodded.

Hermione glanced at McGonagall and posed the question, should she inform the Headmistress of his condition or spare Snape the humiliation of having been duped? There were many things she didn't fully understand about the wizard but one thing was clear, Severus Snape was a proud and private man. He might not appreciate her going over his head unless it was absolutely necessary.

It was then, she decided to give him a choice.

"Would you like to go back to your quarters _or_ ..."

Hermione's voice faded into the background. The record Mr. Filch put on was a slow one. The song was called, Casper's Lullaby but unlike its predecessor, it was gentle; completely captivating. Suddenly, the mood of the room changed, creating another set of spellbinding auras for Severus to study. The new glow was white and left everything it touched slightly blurred. It was like being inside a beautiful dream.

"Professor, are you listening to me?"

"What?" he snapped, half focused on the soft melody playing overhead.

"Would you like to go back to your quarters?" she asked again.

"My quarters will be fine," the wizard answered. No, he didn't hear the question outright and he didn't need too. He was more than ready to bang the pretty witch into the headboard. So what if they weren't a perfect match? It's not like his dick cared.

Snape rose to feet only to fall back on his heels.

"Easy, now …" Hermione said, offering her hand.

"I do not require assistance," the wizard curtly informed. "I stood up too quickly, that's all. Now, let us leave like respectable, Professors. Take my arm."

Hermione was sorely tempted to correct the misguided Potions Master but maybe now wasn't the time. "Thank you," she said, accepting his gentlemanly hand.

* * *

Torres stomped into the Great Hall. She was unmasked and red hot. Firenze and Sweetie were conversing over a glass of punch when she approached.

"Have either of you seen Snape?" she demanded.

Firenze shook his head no. "Not since he was with you," he answered.

"And you?" she asked, cutting her eyes to Nicholas.

The old man deliberated for a moment, purposely irritating the already irritated witch.

"Ah, yes … he left a few minutes ago."

"And??"

"And what?"

"Where did he go?" Adrian strained.

Nicholas shrugged.

"What direction did he go in?" she pressed.

"Now that I think about it …" Firenze interrupted, looking to and from his friend. "I did see him; out in the courtyard."

"You don't say; the courtyard?" Torres snorted. "And what were you doing out there?"

"That's where I go to pee," the Centaur joked, drawing a snicker from Nicholas.

Sure that her co-workers were being deliberately unhelpful, Adrian stormed off. She would simply have to find Snape on her own. Preferably, before he fell victim to the potion's latent effects.

* * *

By the time Hermione made it to the lower level, Snape was swaying. Torres's potion was designed to react with an increased activity and the dungeon steps had been quite an obstacle.

The Gryffindor was allowed inside the Professor's quarters through an access point one level above his office. Upon entering, she discovered a narrow, winding stair case that led from his door to the study. Judging by the number of cobwebs, he didn't use that particular port much.

Hermione sighed tiredly. "You know … you're a lot heavier than you look," she complained, offering her arm to the unsteady wizard.

Hermione was anxious to unload the Professor so she could get to work on an antidote. She questioned whether or not a simple sober-up potion would do the trick but anything was worth a try. She hoped he would allow her to access his personal stores so she could make it. Most of the teacher's quarters were adjacent to their offices. In the Potions Master's case; his room, study, office, lab and main classroom were all conveniently woven in together. It was just a matter of navigating the wards. Once Snape was back to his old self, she planned on telling him everything; with any luck, he'd believe her.

With his arm draped over her shoulder, the duo staggered into the study. Hermione was relieved and a bit awed to be standing inside Snape's library.

_Wow,_ she thought, admiring the number of old books lining his walls.

Hermione glanced around the thinly decorated study for a place to unload her cargo. There was a chair, sofa, desk and several stacks of parchment everywhere. There was also a very old Slytherin crest hanging over the hearth. Thankfully, he had a good fire going.

Hermione guided the wizard to the sofa. "Home sweet home," she said.

Snape acknowledged the witch with a dull smirk as she carefully laid him on his back. In his mind he was thinking he wanted to nail the Spanish peacock but he was curious to know if she'd blow him on the couch first.

"I feel strange …" he admitted, vaguely aware something was amiss.

Hermione snorted.

"You mean to say, you're just noticing?"

Severus's brush with self-awareness was cut short when he noticed the golden glow in his study. The shimmering residue resonating on everything, even him.

Hermione knelt on the floor beside Snape and studied his reaction. His pupils were fully dilated but everything else appeared normal. She was pretty sure he was suffering from some kind of a hallucinogen; similar to Wizarding cannabis but what kind, she didn't know.

Hermione untied her mask. "Professor, do you know who I am?" she asked, hoping that he was lucid enough to tell the difference.

Severus studied the witch. It took several moments for his eyes to adjust to her changing face but after a moment, he did indeed recognize her russet orbs. The witch's hair was darker, much darker but it was definitely, Hermione Granger.

"Granger?" he said quietly.

Finally!

Snape stared at the witch confusingly. "Granger, what are you doing in my …" he choked, suddenly very aware of her presence.

"I brought you here because you asked me too. Sir, you've been drugged."

"Drugged ...? That's preposterous ---"

The moment Snape tried to sit up, he was hit with a rush of elixir and his mind took a drunken turn for the worse.

"Lay down before you fall onto the floor!" Hermione scolded. "If you do, I'll have to levitate you back on the sofa."

Snape eased back.

"Sir, I saw Professor Torres slip something into your drink," she explained.

"What was it?"

"I don't know … all I can tell you is that it had a bluish hue."

Severus closed his eyes. The past hour felt like a dream. Now someone was telling him that it wasn't, that is was real. How real?

"Sir?" he heard someone say.

Snape's eyes snapped open. "What?" he replied hazily.

Granger's face was constantly moving in and out focus and her voice sounded very much like she was speaking through a barrel.

"Do you want Poppy?"

Snape tried to concentrate.

"What? What did you ask?"

"Do you want me?" he heard the witch say.

Snape's eyes rounded. "That is out of the question ...," he nervously snorted. The veritaserum was kicking in. He couldn't truthfully answer, no because the lust potion was beckoning him to say, yes.

Hermione frowned. "Why?" she said, her voice echoing.

Snape glanced up to find a halo of lights circling the witch's head.

"You're a …" he swallowed. "A student … I could never," he confessed.

Thoroughly baffled, Hermione pulled away. _He could never what?_

"Would you at least give me your key?" She asked, hoping Snape would agree to let her into his store. It was magically warded to accept his key only.

Severus looked at the witch as if she had lost her mind. "Come again?" he breathed.

"Would you at least kiss me?" he heard the witch say.

Snape cleared his throat and squirmed deeper into the crevice of his cushion. "Granger … I … I ...," he sputtered.

Hermione leaned forward. "Please, sir," she kindly pleaded.

"Why?" he said in a raspy voice.

"Because I want to help you," the witch replied, leaning even closer so he could feel her sincerity.

Snape's mind and senses fluttered with pandemonium. The logical center of his brain was trying to comprehend why Granger was in his study, beside his sofa, begging to be kissed.

_I must be dreaming …_ he reasoned.

Hermione cuffed the wizard's chin and turned his face towards hers. "Please," she said.

Snape gazed into her face for several moments, shock clearly etched into the lines of his forehead. Then, out of the blue, he reached up and cuffed the witch's chin back. She wasn't sure what to make of the gesture but considering she had touched him first, she didn't move.

"You have lovely eyes," he gently offered.

Hermione's stomach flipped.

"And lips … you have very nice lips," he continued, studying the curves of her face.

The Professor's voice was intense, meaningful; like everything he said, he said with purpose. Hermione's chest began to rise and fall with the tide but still, she did not move.

_What am I doing? He's a teacher and he's under the influence. You can't take advantage of him like this … you're a Gryffindor for Godric's sake!_

Now conscious of the fact, Hermione licked her lips. "Ahem … thank you," she said, not budging from her coveted position.

Snape lightly stroked the wetness from her flesh with the pad of his thumb. "As for your request ...," he murmured, rushing forward to capture the witch's mouth in a single sweep.

Hermione stiffened when the wizard covered her mouth with his but the shock of his attack wore off quickly and she relaxed into the kiss. A light gasp escaped her lips when he pulled back and charged her again. With every storm, he pressed deeper and harder.

Snape was both strong and tender but most of all, he was meticulous. He succeeded in harvesting every piece of flesh as he covertly invaded her mouth. Hermione's core helplessly heated up. She had never experienced anything like this, not even with Ron; ever. Her whole body was on fire and at this moment, this wizard … this man was her only relief.

Hermione was careful not to break the kiss as she rose to her feet. She lifted her gown, straddled his lap and lay forward; pressing her chest against his chest for greater contact. In response, Severus padded her face and plundered her oral cavity.

Moments later, he felt the witch grind against loins. She was fully dressed but the heat from her thinly veiled thatch was warming his crotch and igniting his desire.

"Professor …," she absently breathed.

Snape heard the rawness in her voice; the need behind her claim. She sounded of sex, pure sex. Severus relaxed and allowed the randy witch to have her way. Within minutes, she was grinding, bucking and rubbing him wildly. This was an experience like no other and she was lost to her lust. Her body was screaming for more; much more but in her heart, she knew she wasn't ready to go all the way.

"This really … isn't like … me," Hermione said breathlessly, lacing the Professor's mouth with wet kisses.

"Oh, no …?" he said, feverishly returning her favors. She could have fooled him.

Seconds later, the wizard hissed.

_Bloody hell …,_ he thought.

The lusty witch had taken to nibbling on his ear.

"I know … I shouldn't … but …" she continued.

Hermione focused all her attention on the wizard's harsh mouth, disregarding his greasy appearance or the fact that he was a Potions Master and her instructor at Hogwarts. No, the man beneath her was no relation to the wizard who towered above her in class.

The witch molded her body to fit his as best she could, grinding all her moist parts against his hardened length. Though his tool was stationed securely inside his trousers, it was hers for the asking. Unsheathing it required only a flick of his wrist.

_This isn't happening ..._ he thought, convinced he was dreaming.

In his altered, somewhat inebriated state, Severus struggled to keep up with the witch's ardor. She was amazingly passionate. No one had ever kissed him this way; no one. Not even the bar sluts and house bimbos of yesteryear.

Ten, maybe fifteen minutes later, Hermione felt the wizard beginning to lose steam. Soon after, his sensual caresses became host to a series of butterfly kisses.

_No, no, no! _She thought, suddenly realizing what was about to happen.

"Please don't stop …" she pleaded. The wizard was barely hanging on.

Seconds after that, he gave into to the elixir's lantent effects. _Please don't stop ..._ was the last thing he heard before he slipped away.

"Professor ...," the witch tenderly moaned over his slack mouth. She was met with a breath of wind on her face.

Hermione slowly opened her eyes to find the wizard was gone; lost to the real dream world.

* * *

**A/C:** Damn! Don't cha just hate when that happens? To be honest folks, if that were me, I'd sneak a peek if you know what I mean :D Ahem, Snape is going to be floored when he wakes up and realizes what happened with Hermione. And to be honest, she's going to feel pretty guilty about it too. How will they face one another? Well, they'll have too if they want to figure out what's going on. The good news is that Adrian is completely out of the picture as far as Severus is concerned. This puts a tiny crinkle in Torres and Lady Kakaroff's plans but oh well, they'll just have to improvise.


	32. Aftershock

Snape was preparing a special dose of sober-up potion when he heard a knock at the door. "It's unlocked," he grumbled.

The door creaked opened and closed again. Severus halfheartedly glanced up to find Draco Malfoy standing in his lab. The boy looked less than thrilled to be there.

"And what do I owe this pleasure?" he boringly teased.

Malfoy walked up, reached into his robes and pulled out a small piece of parchment. "I was wondering if you could sigh this," he said, passing it forward.

Snape continued his work, leaving Draco's arm to dangle.

"What is it?"

"A leave request," the wizard informed, brandishing the paper again.

Severus calmly set aside his ladle and looked up. "Is that so? As I recall, you have a habit of leaving the grounds without my permission, why ask?" he replied.

Draco dropped his arm and sighed. He should have known it wasn't going to be that easy.

"I want to visit my mother." he said.

"Ah, I see … undoubtedly, that would take a few days and naturally, you need your treacherous Head of House's signature to make it official, or risk expulsion? Am I right?"

Malfoy cut his eyes across the room. "Yeah, something like that," he grumbled.

Snape studied his charge. No, he didn't care for the boy's attitude but he was more or less obligated to entertain his request. After a moment, he reached out and accepted the note. Draco shifted nervously as the wizard examined it up close. As with everything else he read, he held the parchment mere inches from his big nose.

"This is a request for two days leave at the end of November."

"Yes, sir."

"To visit your mother."

"Yes, sir."

"Mm …, " the Professor sighed, lowering the parchment. "Why not ask her to write the school? Or better yet, why not wait until Christmas?"

Draco wanted to tell Snape to kiss his pureblood ass but his leave request would go up in smoke if he did that. "Because I wanted it to be a surprise," he answered.

"A surprise?" Snape sniffed. "In the many years that I have known you, Draco, I have never known you to surprise your mother with anything but disappointment. Tell me the truth, where are you going?"

The young Slytherin became indignant. How dare Snape imply he was a failure? He was a Malfoy; a tenth generation pureblood. A man of his stature had no need to explain himself. Not to him. Not to a half-blood traitor.

"To visit my mother," he said again, struggling to remain calm.

Snape was sorely tempted to use legilimens on the boy; force him reveal what he was up too but thanks to Bellatrix, Draco was an occulmens and capable of sensing such an invasion.

"Well, are you going to sign it?" the wizard pressed.

Severus considered his request for a full thirty seconds. "Permission denied," he decided, returning to his brew.

"On what grounds?!" Draco snapped.

"On the grounds that I do not believe you," said the Professor, not reacting to the wizard's outburst.

"This is horseshit!" he spat.

"Watch your mouth Draco, or I'll have you scrubbing cauldrons for the next two days."

The young wizard swatted the air in front of him. Obviously, he still wasn't use to not got getting his way.

"You're pathetic, you know that?!"

"Draco ..." Snape said warningly. House favoritism only went so far.

"You made a complete fool of yourself last night and now you're taking it out on ME! Honestly, it's not my fault you can't dance."

'Fool?' Severus mouthed, his eyes slowly lifting.

"Come again?" he said inanely.

"Don't act as if you don't remember," the wizard shot back.

After a few seconds, he realized Snape was quite def; paler than usual.

"You don't, do you?" he retracted.

Snape did recall something but from his perspective, it was all a dream. He remembered attending the Masquerade and patrolling the event. He recalled having several strange conversations with Adrian, a few awkward moments and a certain yellow clad mystery woman that turned out to be Hermione Granger. Among those distorted images, he saw himself returning to his quarters amidst a colorful haze and … and … waking up that morning on his study sofa terribly ruffled. But it was a dream. It had to be.

"What are you talking about? Tell me, now." he demanded, the elixir still affecting his mind.

Draco smirked. "Only if you sign my release," he stipulated.

"Tell me!" Snape hissed.

The young Slytherin gestured towards his quill.

"First things first, sign my release."

"Boy ..."

"Trust me, sir. It's better coming from me than another student, or worse, a teacher." He smiled.

Snape felt the vein in his head throb. The brat was pushing his buttons. Under different circumstances, he might have saddled the boy with detention but not this time. He had to know more. He had to know if what he was seeing in his mind actually happened. Did he and Granger …?

_Oh, tell me it isn't so ...  
_

Snape cleared his throat and reviewed Draco's request a second time. "I suppose one weekend isn't too much to ask." He darkly conceded.

After signing, Professor Snape handed the parchment back to his satisfied charge. Malfoy accepted it with a gracious smile.

"Thank you, sir. I knew you'd see things my way. Now, about last night … there isn't much to tell really; just that you danced with Professor Torres. Horribly, I might add. That's probably why she abandoned you on the dance floor --- just vanished with some elf. I imagine that stung. You looked like an injured owl out there, spinning on the dance floor with all those kids jumping around but luckily for you, she came back."

Severus braced his work bench. "What then?" he said in a punished tone.

"Sir … maybe you should lay off the sauce." Draco said strangely, slowly surmising that Adrian had something to do with what happened.

_Stupid witch … _he thought, detesting her whorish tactics. Yes, he knew she was after Snape and that was fine but if she wasn't careful, she'd get caught and severe his only connection to Lady Kakaroff.

"W-h-a-t then?" the wizard slowly repeated.

"Nothing, you and Torres left the party together; early if memory serves correct. Everyone thinks she gave you a pity shag and that's why she was so ... _upset_ later. You know, disappointed. Anyway, it's all Goyle could talk about at breakfast."

Draco suddenly realized the strangeness of that statement. Why did Gregory care?

Snape was too distraught to discern the wizard's jab at his sexual prowess. _The woman in the yellow dress was Miss Granger. She came and led me off the dance floor, then helped me to my quarters. We talked … she asked me if I wanted her, if I'd kiss her … I told her no but then … _he swooned._  
_

Malfoy observed the Potions Master carefully. He looked almost sick. "Are you okay?" he asked, not really caring for his well being but curious to know what had the man so perplexed.

_Was she that bad of a lay?_ He wondered.

"Nothing --- nothing happened between the Professor and I. Nothing at all! " Severus passionately defended. "I came back to my rooms and fell asleep, that's it!"

Draco shrugged. He could care less if the greasy bastard got his rocks off.

"Whatever, I have to go."

Snape waved the wizard away and pretended to return to his potion. As soon as Draco was gone, he dropped his ladle and slumped over the table. Gripping his forehead, Snape nursed his drug induced hangover with a dose of reality.

_Fuck._

* * *

Yawning, Hermione slunk down the steps towards the Great Hall for lunch. Having skipped breakfast, the Gryffindor was famished but under the circumstances, she wasn't in a rush to get there. She was still bowled over by recent events and needed time to cope. In fact, if she wasn't already on the verge of turning cannibal, she would've opted to skip lunch too. The witch considered locking herself in the tower and sending for food but the elves weren't required to serve students during the day. Keeping an institution like Hogwarts running smoothly was an enormous task and occupied much of their time. She would be lucky if she got a sandwich by curfew.

Hermione bypassed a few classmates on the way down, many of whom were giving her the eye. Though her hair was combed, several strands escaped her ponytail and encompassed her face like a frizzy, inverted halo. She was dressed in sneakers, sweat pants and a black t-shirt which garnered the name 'Within Temptation' across the front. The witch hid her dark circles with a morning-after glamor but wore nothing to brighten her worried smile. Understandably, she didn't get much sleep the night before and was feeling the aftershock of her encounter with Snape.

_Bite me,_ she thought; not really caring if her classmates approved of her shoddy outfit. Seventh years could dress however they wanted outside of class.

Hermione entered the Great Hall, deeply apprehensive of what she might find. Her eyes immediately centered on the High Table but to her surprise, Snape was not there. A slight shadow befell the witch's face. Though she was relieved he wasn't there, her conscience woudn't allow her to celebrate.

_I have to talk to him … explain what happened. _She thought, glancing at the conniving witch, Adrian, munching on a celery stick.

The witch felt horribly low for having taken advantage of an inebriated man; the fact that it was Snape, only made things worse. Some folks might consider her deranged or desperate but to be fair, he kissed her first. He opened the door, not her. What on earth possessed him to do that?

_You didn't have to respond. You didn't have to maw him like that. _The Gryffindor berated; mentally, kicking herself once again.

Blushing, Hermione scanned the room for a place to sit. She smiled when she saw Harry was already there. She needed a friend.

"Hey," she said, walking up.

Harry and Ginny barely glanced up. Neither of them seemed very enthused.

"Hi," the couple halfheartedly welcomed.

Hermione sensed something was wrong but sat down anyway. She figured they were just surprised to see her. It had been a while since she joined them for lunch.

"So, how's the turkey?" she asked, eying the selection hungrily.

"Fine," Harry answered.

The witch poured herself a glass of pumpkin juice and waited for someone to say something. It seemed everyone was content to stare at their forks and carve shapes in their mash potatoes. No one was talking.

"Did you guys have fun last night?" she asked. "By the way, Ginny. I thought you looked nice in pink."

"Thanks," the witch said lamely.

Smiling awkwardly, Hermione served herself a plate of food and ate. While she was eating, she noticed that Ginny and Harry weren't. They just picked over their plates like fussy children.

"Something the matter?" she said, unsure what to make of their silence.

"You tell us." Harry shrugged.

"Tell you what?"

"Where were you last night?"

Stunned, Hermione neglected swallow her next bite.

"Wut?" she mumbled, covering her mouth after the fact.

"You were supposed to be on punishment last night ..."

Yeah, so? Her eyes replied.

"Did you abandon your post?"

The witch's heart skipped a beat. _Olivia … _She thought, swallowing slowly.

"I had to leave for a while … I was coming back but …" she said nervously. There was no way in hell she was going to confess to her friends where she actually went.

"I …"

"Well, you got Gryffindor into trouble again!" said Ginny, cutting Hermione off.

"What?"

"McGonagall is furious. Rumor has it she is going to dock Gryffindor 100 points!" Harry chimed. "We're already 300 points behind everyone else. Oh, and some fourth years over heard the Headmistress dressing the elves down this morning, particularly the one in charge of you!"

_Oh, no … not Olivia._ Hermione thought.

"She didn't punish her, did she?"

"No, I don't think so. No need. Elves are pretty good about punishing themselves." Harry said.

"I'm sorry. I really am," she pleaded. "I was busy."

"Busy?" Potter sneered.

"What I meant was ---"

"Miss Granger," McGonagall said sternly from behind.

Hermione slowly glanced back. "Professor," she said with a nod.

"May I have a word with you please?"

Hermione turned towards her table mates. No one acknowledged her; not even Harry, they just kept right on eating. The boy wonder and his Head Girl girlfriend, were pretty disappointed in the former academic scholar turned miscreant.

"Of course," she meekly put, standing up.

With Hermione in tow, McGonagall walked fluently towards the corridor. The students traded glances as they passed but Granger kindly ignored their pointed remarks. Apparently, word had gotten around that she ditched her duties the night before and they all wanted to witness her uppins. Vulgers.

The second they reached the main staircase, Minerva rounded on the Gryffindor.

"Did I hear you correctly? Did you tell Potter that you were busy last night and that was the reason you abandoned your post?"

"Ugh, yes … but," she stalled.

McGonagall folded her arms.

"But what? Too good to serve, is that it?"

"No, of course not ..."

"I tried to give you an out Hermione and you wouldn't take it. Now, I'm forced to wonder if this is why! What do you have to say for yourself?"

The witch opened her mouth to speak but instead of mounting a defense, she surrendered with a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," she said.

_That's it? Sorry? Nothing else? Where is my Hermione Granger?  
_

"Sorry," McGonagall dully repeated.

Hermione nodded.

Minerva's lips became very thin. She wasn't sure if she could impose any more restrictions on the witch, short of suspension but running out on a punishment wasn't suspension worthy. Besides, she already had one standing detention under her belt. Assigning more might conflict with Snape's schedule.

"100 points from Gryffindor," she pointedly announced, locking eyes with Hermione.

At that moment, the enchanted stone lion guarding the hourglass whimpered and 100 sparkly pieces vanished from its holdings. The rubies were promptly returned to the reservoir chamber.

"Very well. Is that all? May I leave now?" said Hermione, straining to sound polite.

With that, McGonagall felt the line in the sand had been drawn. If that was her attitude, fine.

"That is all. Good day," she said, circling around the witch and walking off.

* * *

Snape sipped a piping hot cup of Earl Grey, spiked with a specially enhanced sober-up brew. He was now feeling the side effects of both the elixir and the aftershock of what happened. After Draco's visit, the Professor spent the better part of the morning recounting his memories. Never once had he touched a student. Never once had he ever considered becoming romantically or sexually involved with a student. Not once. Never mind that Granger was an insufferable egghead and friend to Harry Potter. Never mind she was of consenting age and technically, a guest student; she was still a student.

Snape stroked his brow reflectively. "I didn't …" he murmured, rebuffing the thought with a head shake.

_I groped her_ _and she fondled me back. We snogged. Heavily. She whispered my name … _

"Oh, God …" he moaned.

Wincing, the wizard stood up and began to pace. It had been years since he'd fooled around with a woman; bloody fucking years.

_Maybe that's why I did it? Maybe my lapse in judgment was a result of latent sexual frustration?_

Snape let a contemptuous snort.

_Minerva would have my head in a vice if I told her that! Both of them! _

Though the wizard was experienced, he hadn't been laid since he was a Death Eater. But even back then he rarely found it satisfying. Many of the women he shagged were drunkards, little better than prostitutes by his measure. They'd usually pass out mid-coatis, leaving him to finish on his own or they'd be so unbelievably kinky, he was forced to make a hasty retreat.

Once, when Severus was eighteen, Bellatrix asked one of her friends to blow him as a joke. Well, to everyone's surprise, the witch agreed and ducked beneath the table dressing. The club was so dark and so loud, that no one noticed her disappear. Severus, being the inexperienced wizard he was at the time, allowed Bella's friend access to his wares. She was very good and took extra care to play his jewels between bobs and strokes. Every so often, she'd purposely gag herself on his erection, urging Severus to thrust. Though he had no desire to choke the witch, he had no qualms with giving her what she wanted and happily snaked himself deeper with a series of soft pumps.

Just as the wizard was about to come it happened; something he'd never forget. Without warning, the witch rammed her middle finger straight up his bum and held it there. Severus stifled a harsh grunt but still managed to alert Bellatrix to his predicament. Bella had a pretty good idea what the witch was doing and watched the wizard's stoic face amusingly. He was more embarrassed than uncomfortable but thankfully, no one noticed. No one but Bella, that is. She patiently waited for the Dark Lord's pet to break.

Moments later, Severus did break but not verbally. He quietly erupted inside the witch's mouth, spewing his shame down her throat in spurts. Though she struggled, he held the witch's head firmly in place until he was finished. Afterward, she withdrew and angrily crawled out from underneath the table.

"Ewe, the ugly wanker tastes like cabbage," she seethed, forcing young Severus to color.

Of course, everyone laughed but no one said anything more about it. Not even Bellatrix. However, Snape never forgot the discreet wink the harlot shot him only moments later. 'There's more where that came from' she hinted, making him shudder.

The wizard's walk down memory lane was cut short by a knock at the door.

"Come in," he snapped.

Hermione slowly opened the door and stepped inside. "Sir," she greeted, closing it back.

Snape placed one hand on the desk and stood impotently in place. It felt as if the desk was the only thing holding him up.

"Miss Granger …" he thickly replied, setting his cup of tea down.

Hermione studied her surroundings as she peddled forward. Though this wasn't her first visit to Snape's office, it was the first time she had ever really seen it. It was an emporium of unusual artifacts; not nearly as creepy as Harry and the others made it out to be. Dead things in jars aside, it was functional and well organized.

"Professor, we need to talk." She said hesitantly.

"Yes, we most certainly do," he agreed, motioning for the witch to have a seat.

Hermione quickly accepted his offer. Snape remained standing. He felt more in control that way. Not only that; his stomach was in knots. Sitting would be difficult.

There was an awkward silence between the pair.

"Sir…," Hermione suddenly began. "I don't know what to say ..."

"Then why did you come here?" he logically combated.

"I don't know …" she shrugged. "I suppose I had to try. I wanted you to know how very sorry I am for what happened. I should have never allowed things to go as far as they did. I should have been more responsible and for that, I am deeply sorry, Professor ---" she choked, her eyes becoming red and misty.

Snape observed the witch curiously.

"I … I don't know what I was thinking. I knew you were … you know, out of it … and I should have been the bigger person and said no."

"Pardon me?" he interrupted. "What's this about you saying no, Granger? Are you implying that I acted on something other than your ardent wishes?"

Hermione's face contorted confusingly.

"My wishes? I don't understand," she said.

Snape swooped down into his chair and leaned forward. "You asked me …" he murmured, pausing to consider the lunacy of his words. "You _asked_ me to kiss you! I distinctly remember you begging me." He defended.

There was a moment of silence. Snape was preparing to ease off when Granger broke.

"What?! I did no such thing. You kissed me out of the blue! Granted, I was wrong to accept it but you brokered the kiss, Professor, not me! Furthermore, I would never beg anyone!"

The Potions Master became incensed. This little tart was trying to turn the tables on him.

"Oh, no? Was it not you who said, _at least kiss me, sir … please, oh please."  
_

Hermione's mouth formed a perfect 'O'.

"I did not!" she archly defended, springing from her chair. "Honestly, Professor Snape … either you have an active imagination or that crap Torres slipped you was a mind bender!"

Looking up from his desk, Snape froze on the spot. _Adrian?_

"I came down here to apologize ... to clear the air but obviously, I was …"

"Sit back down, Miss Granger." The wizard calmly spat. There was no way in hell he was going to allow her to leave now.

"I think we've said enough." Hermione shot back.

Snape picked up his wand and flicked it towards the door. Immediately, the latch locked.

"Ooh, you can't do that!" the witch roared. "You can't lock me in here against my will!"

"True, teachers are forbidden from locking students away in classrooms, storerooms, cellars, closets, etc. but I'm here, so in actuality, I'm just ensuring our privacy." He said, tucking his wand away.

Hermione whipped out her piece and aimed it at the door. After blasting it with several spells, she spun around and glared at the Professor. He was smiling smugly.

_She looks like a caged lioness,_ he noted.

"You're wasting your time, Miss Granger. You might as well sit down."

A moment passed.

'Sit down,' he mouthed.

Wounded, the Gryffindor flopped in her chair. "I did not _beg _you," she grumbled.

Rather than argue, Snape snorted his rebuttal.

"Tell me what happened." he ordered.


	33. The Oath

Hermione considered her response carefully.

"Talk," said Severus, his eyes set on the witch.

"Where should I begin?"

"Start at the beginning. You claim that Torres slipped me something?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "Yes …" she admitted, nervously exhaling as she spoke.

_Start at the beginning … _

"A few weeks ago, I stumbled on Professor Torres and Malfoy in the corridor. They were talking. Only they didn't interact like you'd expect a teacher and student to ---"

Snape frowned. "Granger, what does this have to do with last night?" he bitterly interrupted.

"A lot, I suspect. May I continue?" she sniffed. She was still annoyed by his accusation just moments earlier.

Resting his cheek on his fist, the wizard obliged with a wave.

"Ahem, as I was saying … they didn't interact like you'd expect a student and teacher to interact. They appeared familiar with one another, very familiar. She asked him how his Transfiguration lessons were going and if he'd made any progress. Draco never gave her a clear answer. He just said everything was going accordingly and he was still practicing. That's when he inquired after you." Hermione said, pausing for a reaction.

Snape did not respond physically. "Go on," he said.

"He wanted to know how things were developing with you. Torres told him things were going wonderfully and that she had a date with you later that night," said Hermione with a sneer. "To be honest, Draco looked a little put off by the idea. He went so far as to tell her to use a silencing charm."

The Professor managed to subdue a small smile. Though he found nothing about her recount amusing, her reaction was mildly entertaining.

"And?" he goaded.

"Well…, that's it." Hermione said impotently, noticing that Snape didn't appear the least bit impressed. "Don't you think it's strange that Torres would choose to converse so intimately with a student she barely knows?"

Severus did find it suspicious, very suspicious but it would be wrong to divulge those feelings to a student outside his House. Malfoy was a spoiled brat, perfectly capable of treachery but he was a Slytherin and Slytherins looked out for other Slytherins.

"Perhaps," he dryly replied. "What of last night?"

"Last night," she gulped, her mind immediately centering on their time together.

"Yes, last night," Snape said impatiently. He too was embarrassed by what happened but for the moment, he couldn't afford to think about that. Knowing the truth was more important.

"As you know, McGonagall forbid me from attending in the banquet as punishment for what happened with Lavender Brown."

"As I recall, she forbid you from participating as an added punishment for having possession of restricted files." Snape corrected, glimpsing her padded annoyance. His intention wasn't to irk the witch, just to set the facts straight.

"Ahem, yes … well, I was placed in charge of serving punch to the guests. Professor Torres came up and requested a cup and we chatted briefly about how good it was. Afterward, I saw her slip something into the drink. At the time, she claimed it was a headache draught."

"Headache draught … what did it look like?" he asked, sitting up.

"It had a bluish hue."

A series of solutions passed through Snape's mind. There were several potions that had a bluish hue but only one or two that could have resulted in his condition.

_Fantasia …_ he surmised, correlating the color and effects.

The wizard's nostrils flared.

Fantasia was a powerful hallucinogen-narcotic. It was quite popular among rich house witches, swingers and drug addicts. It was responsible for countless crimes against unsuspecting women, most of which resulted in consensual rape; if such a thing could be said. It was a combination of many things but created differently depending on the assailants needs. Among brewers, it was also known as an infusium; meaning that it could be infused with other potions easily. Most commonly, it was combined with lust and tranquility elixirs. Fantasia was designed to lower the cognitive defenses of the user, making them impervious to refusal. On rare occasions, sensual enhancers and truth serums were added for effect.

And she administered it to him? Why? Well, it was virtually undetectable and even harder to prove since the victims seldom recalled specific events. Still, she should have known such a device wouldn't go completely undetected.

"Curious … did she know who you were or that you saw her put into my drink?" he asked, curbing his anger for the sake of the discussion.

"No, sir, I don't think so but even if she did, does it matter? It was supposed to be a headache drought."

Snape conceded with a nod. There was no reason to suspect Adrian of sedition. She was a teacher after all. To a novice or mediocre brewer, which accounted for 95% of Hogwarts residents; no one would have suspected it was anything other than a headache draught.

_I suppose I should be thankful it was Granger who witnessed her do it …_

"What happened next?"

"She left. I saw her walk over and give you the drink."

"Why didn't you say anything? Tell, a teacher … or me?"

"I tried but by the time I reached you, it was too late. I couldn't be sure what I saw but I was pretty sure it wasn't what Torres claimed. Headache draughts are generally colorless."

"All headache draughts are colorless." Snape said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Hermione paid no mind to the correction. She was far too occupied with regret.

"I'm sorry. Maybe I should have told the Headmistress or at the very least, Madam Pomfrey but honestly, I didn't think anyone would believe me. It wasn't until I saw Torres lead you onto the dance floor that I began to suspect something was truly wrong."

Snape arched his brow. "Why do you say that?" he inquired.

"Well … I've never known you to dance …," replied Hermione, eager for him to drop that particular line of questioning.

Severus recalled what Draco said about his performance and cringed. The last thing his tender ego needed was Granger telling him how poorly he fared. It was going to be hard enough to face the faculty and students when he saw them. The less he knew at this point; the better.

"And after that?"

"After?" Hermione swallowed. "Well, afterward … I found you on the dance floor."

"Found?" Snape said skeptically. He could tell she wasn't being completely forthright.

"Perhaps, found is too strong of a word." She corrected.

"Explain."

"I convinced one of the house elves that I was Professor Torres. We were wearing similar dresses so it wasn't hard. I guess we all look alike to them," she joked.

The joke was lost on the wizard.

"Anyway, I pointed Torres out in the crowd. The elf was convinced that Torres was me. Since I was supposed to be on punishment and not participating, he took matters into his own hands."

"That doesn't sound like an elf …" said Snape, hinging on disbelief.

"Well, I sort of pushed him into it." she quietly added, hoping like heck Porky didn't get into any real trouble for what happened.

"I see...," he said, concealing his admiration beneath a hooded glare.

_How very Slytherin of you …_ Severus thought.

"Continue," he ordered.

"Anyway, the elf disappeared with Torres, leaving you on the dance floor alone. That's when I showed up. I realized that you were in a bad way when you mistook me for Torres."

_Yes, I seem to remember that ..._.

"I led you off the dance floor and we sat down. Sir, you have to believe me. I wanted to tell someone but I wasn't sure if you'd appreciate folks knowing …"

"Knowing? Knowing what?" the wizard said irritably.

Hermione shrugged. _That you were duped,_ she thought but did not say.

"It doesn't matter. I gave you a choice. The offer was between telling the Headmistress and escorting you back to your quarters. You chose the latter."

"Funny, I don't recall a choice." He snorted, suddenly recalling the haze of auras and music.

"Well, I gave you one!" The witch snapped.

"Very, well … for the sake of argument, let's say you did. What happened next?"

"I guided you downstairs and you allowed me into your rooms. From there, I helped you to the sofa." the witch blandly stated.

_Oh, please don't ask me anything else …_

Snape paused to consider whether or not he should continue. _Let's just get this over with,_ he decided.

"Ahem, and ...?" he choked.

"I asked you if you wanted me to get Pomfrey. You seemed confused … alarmed by the question. You said something to the effect of '_never with a student'_ and tried to sit up." Hermione swallowed, now realizing what might have happened.

"I didn't know what to make of your reaction so I asked you for your key …" she said, slowly dissecting the Professor's claim that she engineered the kiss. "I needed access to your store so I could brew you an antidote."

"Really? How could you brew me an antidote if you didn't know what ailed me?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "I had to try. You seemed pretty out of it." she answered.

Severus wasn't sure if he could stand much more. It was all beginning to make sense in a painful sort of way. Exhaling a breath, he motioned for her to continue.

Hermione shut her eyes. "That's when …" she stalled.

"Yes, go on," he pushed, the warmth in his cheeks rising.

A few moments lapsed.

"That's when you kissed me," she blurted, opening her eyes to find the Potions Master paling under her admission.

"Professor, do I need to go on?"

"No. I've heard enough." He eagerly agreed. "I think I can piece the rest together myself."

"I'm sorry, sir. I really am. I'm deeply ashamed. I should have done more to discourage you …"

Thoroughly humiliated, Severus jumped into Snape mode.

"You should be. I was under the influence. If I were a woman and you were a man, what you did could be considered a crime! Tell me, do you make it a habit of seducing inebriated wizards?"

"No!" she strenuously defended.

"Did you consider the consequences? What if you had succeeded? What if … what if something more had developed?! What if the Headmistress learns of what happened? Did you stop to think how this would affect me professionally? Of course, that would be completely dependent on whether or not I even had a career once the Board of Governors finished with me!"

Snape ran his pale fingers through his slippery locks and stood up.

"I'm sorry …" she murmured to the rising wizard.

"Sorry? Sorry?! You seemed to be apologizing an awful lot lately." He scolded, growing more furious by the second.

Hermione's eyes became misty. He had a right to be mad.

"Spare me the waterworks!" he spat, grasping the back of his chair.

"I said I was sorry!" she shouted back.

"I can't fathom a reason why you'd indulge yourself. You're an attractive witch. Surely, Mister Weasley didn't leave you that turned out!"

"Ron? Ron doesn't have anything to do with this!"

"Defending him are we?" the wizard said sourly.

"No! What happened was a complete accident! Professor Torres is the culprit, not me! I understand what I did was wrong. I'm not even sure why I did it. I guess I just felt sorry for you." She confessed, immediately regretting her choice in words. The one thing Snape didn't like or need was pity.

"You felt sorry for me?" he rebuffed with a pitch.

Hermione winced. "I didn't mean that like it sounded. I just meant that … you looked so helpless lying there … like you needed something, something that only I could give you. And when you touched me …"

"I don't need reminding, Miss Granger," he groaned, cutting the witch's regale short.

"It felt real …," she softly finished. Hermione's mind flashed back to their encounter and how good the wizard felt underneath her body. He was warm and passionate, completely unlike the Professor she'd come to know in the classroom.

_Real …? _Severus echoed, stunned by her description.

Several moments passed.

"Perhaps, it's possible, ... you weren't fully attuned to my condition," Snape said thickly, dismantled by her choice in words.

_Real …_

The witch shrugged. She did know. She just didn't care.

"But," he continued. "I will need to inform the Headmistress."

"NO!" Hermione screeched; snapping out of her trance. "Please, Professor … you can't. She'll expel me for sure."

"Calm down, Miss Granger. Once I explain ---"

"No!" Hermione protested. "She won't understand. She's not the same McGonagall. She's seems bent on punishing me. In fact, I've noticed some very strange things lately; things I can't explain. I am beginning to suspect there might be something going on."

Snape circled around his chair and folded his arms.

"I can't afford for this news to reach her by some other channel. If she learns what happened --- wait, what kind of things? What are you talking about?"

"I'm not sure; just things. Something feels different about Hogwarts ... haven't you sense it?"

Severus thought back. Yes, he'd noticed some behavioral differences among the staff and students but nothing that warranted an investigation.

"No." he lied. "What do you mean the Headmistress isn't the same?"

"She's just different that's all. Just this morning, she allowed a group of Hufflepuffs to poke fun at me as I followed her out into the corridor. I've never known her to do that. And her so called punishment of me? Well, it's harsher than any I can remember her ever dishing out."

Snape was tempted to tell the witch to suck it up but she had a point. Now that he thought about it, Minerva did seem sterner than he could remember her being in years past. Then again, he wasn't under her charge until now.

"I'd hardly call that evidence, Miss Granger."

"You're right, of course … but something is wrong. I can't put my finger on what it is but I began to notice it after the first Quidditch match this year. Don't you remember? You're the one who made me see how unfair the Gryffindor team was behaving."

Snape paused to think. "Gryffindors are sore losers." He blandly offered.

"Yes, I agree they were being complete blow hards that day but that's not how Gryffindor students behave. I'm pretty sure you know that. If that's not enough to convince you, then what about their unprecedented losing streak? I mean … they lost to Hufflepuff! Not once, but twice!"

_Blow hard?_

The Potions Master snorted. "Oh, my … we should contact the Ministry right away. Something is afoot in Hogwarts," he chuckled.

Hermione scowled at the wizard. "Then there's that business with Torres and Malfoy …" she continued, despite his scorn.

"Taking jabs at Slytherins now?"

Frustrated, Hermione stood up and began to pace. Snape found her liberty a bit annoying but he didn't say anything.

"And …" she suddenly recalled, pausing mid-pace. "We should consider the stones in the hourglass."

Snape ceased smirk-mocking the witch and re-focused.

"What about them?" he asked, recalling their discoloration.

"Well, I can't be sure but they look different. I mean, I've never paid that much attention to them but one day I noticed they looked different. Some of the rubies were darker. A few of the Hufflepuff's gems were discolored too. They looked almost brown."

"Yes … I saw something similar," the wizard admitted, uncrossing his arms. "However, I didn't think to examine Hufflepuffs."

A small rush of a relief overcame Hermione. "So, you believe me?" she said.

"No," he ardently put forth. "But I agree that something may be wrong with the jewels. Perhaps, they were damaged in the Final Battle."

_I hadn't considered that,_ the witch thought.

"Listen, Professor ... please don't tell the Headmistress about last night. I'm begging you." she pleaded.

"I thought you were above begging?" said Snape, returning her words to her.

Hermione frowned.

"Well, I'm making an exception in this case."

Severus considered the Gryffindor's request for a moment. He felt compelled to come clean and tell Minerva everything in the hope she might spare him. Still, Granger wasn't given to wild imaginings and he too had noticed his share of questionable happenings in recent weeks. If there was anything truth to her claim … any at all … confessing to Minerva might inadvertently place his head on the chopping block.

"What guarantee do I have that you will not say anything? That you will not turn on me later?" he wisely asked.

"You have my word, Professor."

Snape surprised the witch with a hearty laugh. "Not good enough. Words are cheap. You'll have to do better than that," he boasted.

Under normal circumstances, someone thumbing their nose at her honor would've infuriated Hermione but she understood the wizard needed to protect himself.

"I will give you my word in the form of a pensive." She boldly offered.

Snape's stoic expression gradually returned. "Mm, better …" he said, hashing over the proposal in his mind.

"Will you also agree, under oath, never to speak of this to your friends?"

"What friends," Hermione spat. Her comment earned her another brow raise. "Yes, of course but I will not consent to an unbreakable vow."

"Don't be ridiculous. We don't have a binder you silly girl. It will be a secondary oath. Should you break your word, you will suffer a consequence; most commonly, aging is used a penalty."

Hermione reddened. She knew that. Why did she say she wouldn't consent to an unbreakable vow?

"Very well, I agree to your terms."

"One last thing," said Snape, a certain devilment in his tone.

"What?"

"You said you suspect Mister Malfoy of something?"

"Yes …"

"As part of your atonement, I am requesting that you keep an eye on him. Find out what he is up too. I'd do it myself but as his superior, I would only incur caution. You on the other hand, would arouse less suspicion. As a special assignment, I also want you to follow him off grounds for a weekend. He scheduled to depart at the end of this month."

"You want me to spy on him?" the witch said disbelievingly.

"Isn't that what I just said?" he chastised. "I hate it when perfectly intelligent people ask stupid questions."

Hermione placed her hands and her hips and tapped her foot against the floor. Less than 24 hours ago, she found the dark wizard irresistible but now it seemed she wanted to strangle him.

"What else," she mumbled.

"You will report back to me as often as you can. We may use your standing-detention as a guise."

"And how long am I supposed to do this?"

"For as long as I deem it necessary," said Snape with a hint of delight. "In the meantime, I will look into your _other _claims."

"Fine," she reluctantly agreed. "What about Professor Torres? What do you intend to do about her?"

Severus considered the Spanish witch with a sneer. She would pay for what she did but not right now. For now, he would have to play her game. Whatever her motives, he'd find out.

"Nothing right now and that is exactly what you will do. Do you understand me?" he said, locking eyes with the witch.

Hermione read the wizard's dark orbs. "Yes, I understand." She said, sure the witch was in for something far worse than a sacking.

Snape held out his hand. "Good. Now, take my arm," he ordered, reaching for his wand.

Hermione gripped the wizard's forearm.

"Repeat after me," he said, laying the tip of his wand on their embrace. Instantly, she felt a surge of magic race through her hand.

"I, Hermione Granger …"

"I, Hermione Granger …"

"Do hereby bind myself to an oath …"

"Do hereby bind myself to an oath …"

"To never speak of the transgression between myself and Professor Severus Snape …"

"To never speak of the transgression between myself and Professor Severus Snape …"

"To anyone for as long as the holder deems necessary …"

"To anyone for as long as the holder deems necessary …"

"The consequence of my divulgence …"

"The consequence of my divulgence …"

"Will be ten years off my life to be paid upon breaking that said oath …"

Hermione flinched and looked down, forcing Snape to tighten his grip. When she glanced back up, she found his eyes burrowing into her face.

"Will be …" she said hesitantly, "ten years off my life to be paid upon breaking that said oath …"

Hermione felt the wizard relax.

"And to serve as his emissary …"

"And to serve as his emissary …"

"For the purpose of discerning Draco Malfoy's intent …"

"For the purpose of discerning Draco Malfoy's intent …"

"This I do hereby swear."

"This I do hereby swear."

A swirl of golden magic wrapped around the pair's arm and formed a ring. As it dissolved, Hermione was bound to word. Within moments, the ring disappeared completely.

"Are we done?" she asked.

"Yes," said Snape, gently releasing her arm. "Thank you."

"No problem ..," she lied. "May I go?"

Severus studied the Gryffindor. Not many would have placed themselves under such an oath, unbreakable or otherwise. Whether she meant to or not, this endeared the witch to him.

"Not without my pensive," he replied, immediately retreating to the back to retrieve a bottle.

Granger's face drew up. _I don't believe it …_ she scoffed.

"You don't trust me? Even after the oath?" Hermione voiced.

There was some rummaging in the background. Apparently, the wizard was searching high and low for the perfect vat.

"I don't trust anyone," he shot back.


	34. Tid Bits

"Come in," said Minerva.

Snape gently opened the door to McGongall's study and glided inside. Stopping just short of entering her sanctum, he folded his hands neatly behind his back and waited.

"You sent for me, Headmistress?"

Minerva smiled and turned around, revealing her lightly decorated face in the branches of firelight. A surge of gaiety flashed in Snape's eyes.

"Good evening, Severus. Would you care for something to drink?" she kindly offered.

"Uh, no thank you," he replied, overting his gaze to a small arrangement on the tea stand.

"A chocolate, perhaps?"

"No -- I'm fine, thank you."

"You know, for years I enjoyed chamomile but since discovering nightingale, I haven't suffered a single restless night," she prattled, helping herself to a dainty cup.

"I could prescribe you something."

"Thank you, Severus but no. I've always been weary of sleeping potions."

"Why?"

"Fear, I suppose --- fear of not waking up," said Minerva, taking a sip. "Mm, that's good."

Snape bristled. He was a master. Did she think him incompetent?

"Miss Pince informed me that Slytherin won its seventh chess match last night. Congratulations. I believe that places your House first."

Severus's cheek ticked in response. He'd forgotten about the meeting until that moment.

"I can't say I'm surprised. Headmistress ..." he said, stepping forward. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Do for me ...? No, I asked you here to talk. I've barely seen you all week."

"I've been busy preparing for mid-year exams."

Minerva tipped her gaze knowingly. "Nonsense, exams are weeks away! No one ever prepares this soon. Well, almost no one," she corrected, recalling a similar conversation she had with Albus once. "Is something bothering you, Severus?"

Relying on instinct more than reason, Snape looked to Dumbledore's portrait for counsel but the wizard was fast asleep.

"No," he sullenly replied; his eyes still fixated on the old wizard.

"Well, you certainly do act like it. I've barely seen you since the banquet. Not even at meals," she noted, recalling the wizard's ghastly dancing abilities. "Has someone said something to upset you?"

Snape rolled his shoulders and sighed. He had a sneaky suspicion where Minerva was going with her question and no one, especially a student, would dare comment on that night or they'd find themselves buried up to their eyeballs in rotten worm guts and bird feces.

"I've just been busy," he answered. "However, if you are in need of anything ---"

"No, no ..., I was just concerned. Some of the other teachers asked about you as well."

"Is that so?"

"Well, Filch asked about you this morning …"

_Filch?_

"And Hagrid …"

_Hagrid…_

"Firenze too …"

_I was under the impression he didn't like me._

"And of course, Adrian; she's been inquiring after you every day for the past week."

Snape's face became horrible.

_Treacherous concubine…_

"Severus is something wrong?" she asked, noting his change in demeanor at the mention of Torres's name.

_Lover's spat, perhaps? _She wittingly surmised.

Minerva, like many, began to suspect the pair of a romantic tryst; a few of the teachers, particularly Pomfrey and Trelawney were abuzz, busily questioning the legitimacy of the attraction. Was Adrian some hot in the frock opportunist? Or was her transparent desire genuine? Now that Snape was a man of status, anything was possible. He wasn't as personable, good looking or famous as Harry Potter but he was a courageous figure nonetheless. That being said, his fruitless love life was bound to improve. Still, there were many who couldn't resist questioning the witch's motives.

Severus must have realized he was frowning because he stopped. "Of course, not …," he said, helplessly scrutinizing the witch's golden crows' feet.

The style reminded him of a Muggle woman he once saw on a street corner as a child. She too wore gold eye shadow and scarlet red lipstick but unlike the muggle, Minerva didn't look as if she applied hers with a spatula.

McGonagall peered over her glasses knowingly. "It's just a little make-up, Severus --- you needn't stare." She scolded.

"Forgive me, I wasn't … I just …, ahem --- why the sudden change?" he said uncomfortably.

"I felt a change was needed. Change is good, you know. In fact, you could use a little sprucing up yourself! For example, those black robes … you've worn that dour look for years. Haven't you ever considered something else?? Perhaps, an earthy brown or ---"

"No," Snape staunchly replied. He liked black. It was the only thing that matched his stained skin.

"Well you should," she spat. "Change is good."

Snape bowed, surrendering his objection but not necessarily agreeing.

"Will that be all? I have detention in an hour."

"Really, with whom?" McGonagall pried.

"Hermione Granger."

Minerva's face became drawn which caught Severus completely off guard.

"Oh, yes, her standing-detention," she said snappily. "Well, I do hope you're making her work off her debt. Honestly, I don't know what has gotten into her lately. She's been such a disciplinary problem."

"Yes, well …," he shrugged, torn between delight and suspicion. He wasn't used to hearing Minerva criticize her prize pupil. "I'm sure she'll remember our time together; of that, I have no doubt."

"Good. I'm glad to hear it. That said, I suppose we're done here. Thank you for coming, Severus."

"Always," he bowed.

* * *

Snape billowed down the corridor, gainfully ignoring the students leaping out of his path. Most eagerly moved out of his way but a few, namely Slytherins, were slow to oblige. Their lack of respect, or fear, did not go unnoticed.

The iconic respect Snape once treasured was slowly returning but not quickly enough as far as he was concerned. Some of his charges, particularly the sons and daughters of Death Eaters, still reviled him and it didn't look as if that was going to change anytime soon.

"M-o-v-e," he hissed to one boy.

The young man stepped aside and let his Head of House pass. Irritated, Snape darted around the bend, nearly colliding with a group of Gryffindor girls. They were amidst a hot discussion and immediately sized up his gaucherie with an unflattering glance.

"Excuse me …" said the wizard, self-consciously circling around the hens.

"He's still creepy," one girl murmured.

Hearing this, Severus hesitated but only for a second. He could have easily turned around and docked ten or twenty points but instead, he chose to ignore the blurb and continue onward. He had better things to do. In fact, he was rather anxious to get back to his office and set up for his meeting with Granger. Nearly a week had lapsed since their pact and thus far, he'd received nothing from her in the form of a report.

_We'll see how creepy you think I am when I have you harvesting horse spunk_ … he viciously plotted.

As the Potions Master droned down the corridor, he began to notice something strange. Many of the portraits were asleep. Though Hogwarts's paintings were magical, their magic was not sustainable; it ran in cycles. Like people, they required rest but it wasn't like the paintings to retire so early in the evening.

"Professor … Professor Snape?!" a voice called out.

Severus recognized the voice and came to a screeching halt.

_Adrian__ …_ he thought.

The Potions Master slowly turned back to find Torres trotting up. He couldn't help but notice that her breasts were jiggling in step. Either she wasn't wearing a brazier or the one she had on was poor quality. The effect was only exacerbated by her fitted sweater.

"Severus," she panted. "I haven't seen you all week. Where have you been hiding?"

Snape managed to hide his contempt with an even smirk. "Hiding?" he countered.

Adrian nodded.

"I've been working."

"The whole week?"

"Obviously," he said frostily.

Torres sensed the wizard wasn't pleased but it was reasonable to assume he was just being his usual dour self.

"Is something wrong?"

"Wrong? I'm not sure I understand."

"I mean you seem … upset about something."

Snape ground his teeth behind a stern jaw. "Now that you mention it …," he began. "I am."

"About?"

"It regards one of my charges." He said plainly.

Adrian breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, what's on your mind? Maybe I can help." She said.

Snape answered the witch with a cold, bodily glance. Even if he was inclined to trust her, which clearly he wasn't, he'd never discuss House business with anyone other than the Headmistress.

"It's a private matter," he sharply replied, turning back down the hall.

"Wait --- aren't you coming to dinner?"

Snape continued ahead. "I have detention." He said flatly.

"Okay … tomorrow night, perhaps?"

The wizard did not respond, leaving her to wonder if he even heard the question. Rather than appear completely desperate, Adrian hung back and watched his exaggerated robes balloon down the hall.

"Ugly cockroach," she grumbled, bothered by his aloofness.

Just as the witch was preparing to leave, she was snatched by the waist and pulled into a nearby wardrobe.

"Get off ---"she growled, punching her attacker in the dark.

"Ouch! Stop it, Adrian … it's me," said Goyle, falling into a rack of old Quidditch robes.

The witch rounded on the young man. "Are you insane?! Someone could have seen you!" she scolded.

"I checked. No one was around."

"Idiot! Someone could have heard!"

"Nah, I put up a silencing charm before I grabbed you." He proudly informed.

Adrian's eyes became slits.

"Silencing charm or not, this is absurd. We can't be seen together. Are you trying to get me fired?"

"I'm of age," the boy lamely defended. "Besides, no one suspects anything."

"I don't care! We can't afford to take uncalculated risks. Severus could have easily ---"

"Severus? Wait --- since when are you two on a first name basis?"

"That's none of your business," she hissed.

Goyle frowned. He didn't like the idea of Adrian consorting with his Head of House, not one bit.

"Do you have any news?" she spat, figuring she might as well make the best of his carelessness.

"A little …"

"Well?"

"Draco is scheduled to finish his tutoring lessons this week."

"Anything else?"

"Um, no … not really; just that he's planning too ---"

Goyle paused.

"What do I get out of this if I tell you?" he asked, his Slytherin prowess taking over.

"Immunity from a sound hexing," Adrian gently warned.

"Not good enough." he said unafraid.

"Gregory …"

The room was very dark but there was enough light to make out each other's silhouette. Goyle didn't budge. After a moment, Adrian heard what sounded like a zipper slowly unzipping.

"We don't have time …" she began.

Seconds later, she heard the wizard's belt buckle hit the floor. The cold hard sound of a man refusing to accept 'no' for an answer was a turn on for the witch.

"How do I know you'll give me what I want?" she said.

The question cemented her willingness.

Standing in the dark, Goyle said nothing. It was all a part of the game. She would shrewdly demand information while he stubbornly refused; saving the confession for mid-coatis.

The wizard reached over and yanked the witch's fitted skirt over her hips and ripped off her flimsy silk knickers.

"Spread you legs," he ordered.

Adrian eagerly complied. Forgoing the arousing ceremony, Goyle plunged two fingers deep inside her cavity.

"Yes ..." she murmured.

The wizard smiled. His witch was wet for him; very wet.

"Turn around and bend over," he instructed, guiding her towards the wall.

Again, she complied. Once positioned, Goyle drove his fingers into her slimy core. After reaming her thoroughly for several minutes, he withdrew his fingers and spread the excess lubricant all over his engorged tool.

Adrian rolled her arse lustily. She could hear him working.

"Are you going to tell me what I want to know?" caring more about the job that was about to get done to her, than the job she needed to do.

"Don't I always?" he murmured back, gripping her hips roughly.

"Ooh …"

Goyle bent his knees, angled his hips and paused. He let the memory of Adrian fawning over Snape at the banquet and her increasing coldness flow through his mind. He also considered the way she used his name and the countless flirting episodes in between; not to mention the lack of sex.

In the beginning, he assumed she was just being friendly but now he worried she might actually be interested in the nasty git. Though Adrian wasn't his official witch, she was still his woman and any girl of his should know better.

"I love you …" he whispered, allowing his confession to linger for a few seconds.

Adrian's lashes and lips flung apart. In a single stroke, the wizard buried his thickness inside her unsuspecting bum, firmly gagging her response with a choke. Had it not been for the silencing charm, all of Hogwarts would have heard the high pitch howls, whorish curses and barbaric grunts that followed.

* * *

Severus flipped between his paperwork and the clock, anxiously awaiting the arrival of Miss Granger. Over a period of thirty minutes, he managed to grade only a handful of quizzes which left him feeling very unproductive. However, he was determined to appear busy when the witch arrived and continued working.

'Dunderheads,' he mouthed; frustrated by the level of underachievement at his fingertips. 'They're all a bunch of idiots …'

Moments later, there was a rap at the door.

"Come in," he said grudgingly.

Looking every bit as frustrated as she did tired; Hermione entered the room and took a weary seat in front of Snape's desk. Severus continued marking papers, pretending not notice her lack of enthusiasm.

"Report," he firmly stated.

"Malfoy is an irredeemable git," she answered.

Snape stopped writing and looked up.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Malfoy is an irre---"

"What happened?" he interrupted.

Hermione leaned back in her chair.

"Well, he's two-timing Pansy for starters. I spotted him sneaking out of the owlery with Susan Bones last night. He looked smug and Susan looked smitten. Then again …," she said, reanalyzing her thoughts. "Maybe she was embarrassed. Either way, she was plucking feathers out of her knickers! To be honest, sir, I was floored."

"Why? Did you see something?"

"Ugh, no ---"

"Then I'd say your conclusion is premature."

"Excuse me? I stood in the cold rain for twenty minutes, doing what you instructed me to do. Are you going to defend Malfoy at the first opportunity?"

True, the wizard had a habit of dismissing his charges offenses; even when their misdeeds were staring him right in the face but this time his obliqueness was based on relevancy, not favoritism. Draco's sexual endeavors, if any, did not factor into his concerns.

"Alright … let me put it to you another way. Your trappings amount to little more than a pocket of ashes; you have no proof."

"Professor," said Hermione, sitting up. "Unless they tied themselves to a couple of owls before wrestling a cyclone, I'd say the proof is in the sight."

The corners of Snape's mouth twitched. Normally, he despised cheek but the image of Draco and the Hufflepuff getting it on inside a turbulent wind devil, warranted a smirk. Severus quickly recovered with a cough and motioned for the witch to continue.

Hermione interpreted his mute retort as concession and eased back.

"Did you know that he smokes? He likes to sneak out to the stables between classes and steal a drag. Frankly, I think it's a disgusting habit."

"Moving on," the wizard chided, earning him a short glance from the witch.

"He also tortures underclassmen. The other day, he hexed a first year right under McGonagall's nose. From where I was sitting, it looked as if she saw what happened but for whatever reason, ignored it. Admittedly, Olsen is annoying but jinxing him was in bad taste. He's only a first year," said Hermione, continuing down her laundry list of dirty deeds.

As the witch droned on, Snape tapped his quill annoyingly. It seemed that Malfoy was every bit the uncouth youth his father wasn't and nothing close to the misguided darling his mother considered him to be. Severus wasn't entirely surprised by actions or interested in knowing every detail of the wizard's life, just the pertinent facts.

"Miss Granger …," he said wearily.

"I also caught him sneaking out of the girl's lavatory two days ago. I was disillusioned, so he didn't see me. I mean, what kind of pervert likes to watch a girl … you know …, go."

"Miss Granger …,"

"And now that I think about it, I don't think that is tobacco he's smoking. Tobacco smoke is grey not pink …"

"Miss Granger!"

Hermione flinched. "Yes," she said; a hint of alarm in her voice.

"That is quite enough. Your assignment was to find out what Draco is up too and if he had any real connection to Professor Torres … not to provide me with a hall monitor report."

Hermione frowned. "I did exactly what you wanted. Maybe they're not the answers you were looking for but ---"

Snape snorted. "No, they are not. Do you have anything useful to add?" he said simply, unaware that his honesty had struck a chord with the witch.

Hermione glared at the wizard. "Only that I think I know where Draco learned his manners," she said.

The Potions Master matched her scowl with one of his own.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, anything else?"

"How can you be so … so … ungrateful? I've been running here and there all week long, trying to collect the information you requested and for what; for you to dismiss everything with … _do you have anything useful to report_?" she sneered.

Snape returned to his papers. "Miss Granger, the task was relatively simple. I did not expect you, a novice, to have all the answers after just one week but I was hoping for something more mature than a tattle tale account. If that offends you, so be it." He calmly rebuked.

Hermione's eyes spoke volumes but the wizard wasn't looking. "I wasn't tattling," she defended, her indignation simmering just below the surface of her words.

Snape did not respond.

Hermione continued to glare across the desk but the Professor refused to look her way. She was paying careful attention to his ruthless mouth moving cynically across the parchment when a tingling sensation began to rise in the pit of her stomach.

"Granger …" he said, glancing up suddenly.

Hermione colored when their eyes met. Nothing short of blindness would have prevented Severus from seeing the embarrassment on her face.

"Ahem …, yes?" she choked, trying to conceal her thoughts which suddenly felt naked.

Incidentally, the wizard wasn't using legitimens on the witch. She was just that easy to read.

Severus pretended not to notice her nervousness. "My apologies, Miss Granger … obviously, you are putting the time and effort into the task. Perhaps, I was being …." He paused, considering his words carefully.

"Harsh, rude, unappreciative …?"

Snape bounced his papers annoyingly. "Insensitive," he finished.

Hermione nodded in agreement before turning her attention towards the jars of dead creatures lining Snape's walls. For some reason, she didn't find them as revolting as she did before; particularly the half-Amarillo floating upside down in his jar.

Hermione cocked her head to the side and smiled. He looked a little bored, as if to say 'I've been dangling here for ages'.

The Professor was preparing to dismiss the witch when she turned around.

"Sir, unless you have something for me to do, I should go."

"I have nothing for you at present but why the hurry? Big plans?" he mocked, secretly wondering if it was true.

"As a matter of fact, yes. I have a date." She said with a toothy grin.

"Trying to make Weasley jealous, are we?"

"Ron? No! He couldn't compete with my date if he a handbook, pictures and a personal coach. This chap is a gentleman."

"My, my --- how delightful for you," the wizard said uncaringly. "I do hope you've arranged for you're young buck … ahem, _beau_ to meet you elsewhere."

Hermione stood up.

"Yes, of course, we're meeting in the courtyard. He should be there now. And for the record Professor, he's older than you."

Snape gripped his quill so tightly that the rigid plume broke.

"Miss Granger, do you mean to tell me that you've allowed a stranger access to the grounds?"

"What? No," she defended, physically distancing herself from the accusation. "That's ridiculous."

"Then who are you meeting?"

"A friend," she replied, not wishing to tell Snape the truth. Frankly, it was none of his business.

"A fellow student??"

Hermione hesitated.

The Potions Master stood up and leaned across his desk. Hermione's heart began to pound when she glimpsed the heat in his eyes. At that moment, he looked very dangerous; very much the dark wizard of speculation.

"For your safety and the security of this school, who are you meeting? And _do not_ lie to me."

Stunned, Hermione searched his black orbs. He was dead serious. Snape studied the Gryffindor but made no attempt to invade her mind. Apparently, one had to be emotionally detached to perform legitimens or at the very least, calm.

"Granger, I'm warning you ---" he growled, breaking the spell he had unintentionally cast.

"Sir Nicholas," she spat. "I'm meeting Nearly Headless Nick in the courtyard."

The wizard's decend into rationality was plainly visible. Granger was not meeting a man, at least not one that breathed.

"I see ...," he calmly noted, reseating himself as if nothing had happened. Now embarrassed, Snape began to organize his desk.

"I can't believe you'd think I'd allow an outsider access to Hogwarts." Hermione said in the way of an afterthought.

"Stranger things have happened," the wizard justified.

"Well, I wouldn't! My housemates and I haven't been getting along lately and Sir Nicholas offered to help."

"Help?" he scoffed, pausing over the irony.

"Yes, help. Right now, I need a friend; someone to talk too – that's all."

Snape detected a small wave of sadness in the witch's voice but said nothing. It wasn't his place. Whatever problems she was experiencing with her housemates would soon pass.

"Have you discussed the matter with your Head of House?"

"Professor Sweetie is very kind but I'm worried he'll try to speak to the others on my behalf and I'd rather not be labeled a _spat brat._"

Severus nodded in agreement. It would be better if she relied on herself than the diplomatic talents of her superior.

"Well, if that's all ... I should be going. When would you like to meet again?"

"When you have information," said Snape evenly, leaving the door open for Hermione to stop by anytime.

"Good night, Professor."

"Good evening," he replied.


	35. Lords, Ladies and Naughty Elves

"Ah! Miss Granger! I was beginning to worry you had forgotten about me," the transparent form of Sir Nicholas said.

"I'm sorry. I had detention with Professor Snape." said Hermione, seating herself on the edge of the fountain.

Wrapping herself tightly, she looked over the empty yard and shivered.

"It certainly is cold tonight."

"I wouldn't know …" the ghost said thoughtfully. "But if you would prefer, we can go indoors."

"No!" Hermione quickly answered before remembering herself. "I mean, no thank you. I'd rather stay out here."

Nicholas floated down from his lofty stance and seated himself next to the witch. Granted, it was physically impossible for him to actually sit but he made the gesture nonetheless.

"What did you want to talk to me about?"

Hermione exhaled a deep breath. "I'm not sure …" she said. "It just feels like everyone in Gryffindor has turned against me; excluding, Professor Sweetie of course."

"Surely, you don't mean that. Gryffindors are exceedingly loyal."

Hermione crooked her brow. "I believe you're confusing us with Hufflepuffs," she replied.

"Nonsense, Gryffindors are equally devoted." Nicholas staunchly corrected. "We're just not as needy. Hufflepuffs affirm their allegiance with sappy speeches whereas Gryffindors stand nobly behind their friends. What happened to make you think everyone has turned against you?"

Granger rolled her eyes and snorted.

"For starters, no one is speaking to me. I realize I'm to blame for some of it ... well, actually a lot of it but they're being such jerks! It's hard being in House where everyone avoids you like the plague."

"Why do you believe your housemates are avoiding you?"

"Well ..., I've gotten into some trouble recently …"

"Oh, that ... yes," he said, recalling the gossip.

"Well, that's only part of it. Now that Ginny is Head Girl, I think she feels that I am a bad influence. To be honest, she's been acting strangely ever since she made Head Girl. I can't say I'm surprised. Percy was the same way when he was here. What is it with the Weasleys? Why do they start acting like toe rags the moment they receive a little recognition?"

"Am I to understand that Miss Weasley said something to make you feel unwelcomed?"

"No but she and the others have been giving me the cold shoulder for a while and Harry … well, he and Ginny are pretty much attached at the hip. No doubt, he feels the same way --- although he does speak to me on occasion."

"And Mister Weasley?" the ghost pried.

"Ron and I broke up a month ago. He's dating Lavender Brown now. Needless to say, we're not the best of friends."

"By my count, that adds up to three. What about Mister Longbottom, Finnigan, Patel and Miss Lovegood? They are your friends too, are they not?"

"Not at the moment. None of them will talk to me except for Luna but then, she has always danced to the beat of her own drum. It's odd really. I would have never guessed they could be so … so … petty!"

"Tut, tut, I'm sure this all blow over very soon," Nicholas kindly advised.

Suddenly, Hermione's face became hard.

"Sir, I'm not sure that I want it too. I mean … we've been through so much. I just don't understand how they can turn on me so easily unless … unless we were never truly friends to begin with."

"Now, Miss –"

"Perhaps, I was nothing more to them than a walking encyclopedia; someone to help them with their studies and ward off hexes …" she said distantly.

"I really don't think …" the ghost tried.

"I'm sure they care about me but what if I was just some nerd who overstayed her welcome? Yes … now that I think about it, neither Ron nor Harry liked me very much when we first met. It wasn't until I agreed to help them solve the mystery of the Sorcerer's Stone they tolerated my presence. Maybe I'm the same friendless brain who waltzed into Hogwarts eight years ago and now that there are no perils to face, no Voldemort or Death Eaters to worry about … I've outlived my usefulness. Maybe I imagined the depth of our friendship," she sadly finished.

"Miss Granger, you are not useless! And you are not friendless. It so happens that you are an exceptionally brilliant witch; that within and of itself is a gift beyond measure. As far as your friends are concerned, you are correct, much has happened … things that could test and break the strongest of bonds under normal circumstances, but you are still here! All of you! Please do not mistake this row as a permanent indication of their disloyalty or dislike of you."

Hermione folded her arms and sighed. "What else am I too think?" She sniffed.

Sir Nicholas floated up and turned around. "You shouldn't think on it. Thinking leads to resolve. You should instead remember that you're all adults now and new paths are bound to be forged. Paths that may not always cross or run parallel to one another," he said tremendously.

When Hermione did not respond, he drifted back down.

"McGonagall allowed each of you a chance to return to school, to finish the education you were denied due to the war but nothing can turn back the clock; nothing will make you children again. In all fairness, you're barely students! You are adults who have been afforded a fantastic opportunity; one more year at Hogwarts, one more chance to be footloose and fancy free. Count yourselves lucky. Most of us never get a chance to know what that feels like. Enjoy your time here and learn as much as you can. For when it is time for you and your friends to pass through these gates, you will find just how rare second chances really are."

Hermione blinked up at the pale, transparent figure. Much of what he said made sense.

"Miss Granger, you needn't worry. Your friends will come around. True, their treatment of you has been astonishingly un-Gryffindor but it's all a part of growing up. Friends sometimes stray but once a Gryffindor, always a Gryffindor and Gryffindors stick together."

"But I need them …" the witch softly argued.

"Come now, you have faced far worse than a few cold shoulders."

Hermione shrugged.

"Have you tried talking to them?"

"No," she snorted, looking quite put out by the suggestion. "They're the ones ignoring me."

"Well, then …" said the ghost, reseating himself. "Let them be foolish. You have your studies and future to think about; those two things should be enough to occupy your mind. When the time is right, they will realize their mistake and welcome you back into the fold with open arms."

"And if they don't?"

"They will or my name is not Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington," he said haughtily.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh. It certainly was a mouth full.

"Thank you, Sir Nicholas. You've been an enormous help."

"You are most welcome, Miss Granger. I am always at your disposal." He bowed, tipping his nearly severed head gallantly.

Smiling, Hermione stood up. "Good night," she said before turning to leave.

The ghost snapped his head back into place and floated up.

"Good dreams, Miss Granger and remember …"

She stopped and turned around.

"I do enjoy a good haunting. In the unlikely event they do not come around, my services are available."

"Wait --- isn't that against the rules?"

"Yes, I suppose it is but why should you have all the fun? More importantly, you are the first student in centuries to ask my advice. I shall not let you down, dear lady."

"Oh, Sir Nicholas …," she whimpered.

It seemed chivalry was not dead after all.

"No, no --- none of that, run along before you miss curfew," the ghost shooed. "I said I will haunt for you. I will not vouch for you if you are late!"

Hermione smiled and waved her gentleman friend goodbye. Once inside, she hurried towards the grand staircase, slowing only to observe the dungeon entrance as she passed. She couldn't help but think of the Professor and their meeting as she made her way down the corridor. Though nothing came of it, their time alone was the highlight of her day.

Just as she was about to turn up the stairwell, a twinkle of light caught Hermione's eye and she glanced over. The House jewels were shining brightly through their hourglass case.

Thinking carefully, the witch turned back and walked over to the Gryffindor pillar. She looked inside to find the discolored rubies had darkened since her last visit. Not only that, but there were more of them than before.

Granger eased down to the Hufflepuff glass. _Something is very wrong,_ she thought, noticing that it too contained several tarnished gems.

Hermione examined the other two hutches but found only a few of the jewels had changed, Slytherin being the least affected of them all.

_A pocket full of ashes …_ she recalled Snape saying.

Hermione searched the corridor and stairwell. No one was around and conveniently enough, the portraits were all asleep. Normally, she would have found their collective slumber a little strange but she was too distracted to notice anything unusual.

Granger reached into her robe and pulled out her wand. Aiming it discreetly at the glass, she briefly paused to consider the consequences of her actions.

"Pocket of ashes my arse," she murmured.

* * *

Yawning, Severus set aside his notes and put away his quill. He managed to finish grading most his papers despite several distractions involving his appointment with Hermione. For reasons he couldn't explain, she really turned his crank that night. Had she not said what she said the way she said it, he might not have reacted the way he did.

"Silly chit," he grumbled, banning any further thought on the subject.

Severus turned down his lantern and warded his office doors. Afterwards, he billowed into the next room and locked the student cupboards. Though it was unlikely anyone would trespass into his classroom afterhours, he wasn't one to take chances. There were several things he didn't want stolen, broken or worse, mishandled while he slept.

After securing the entrance, he strolled into his lab. Snape inspected the area before locking his cabinets and drawers. As he was preparing to leave, he heard a sound which forced him to stop.

_What was that?_

A moment later, he heard it again. Convinced someone was there, Snape treaded softly across room in search of the disturbance.

'Here kitty, kitty' his footsteps rang.

The muffled sounds grew louder as he neared the Potions deposit, 'his' storeroom. Snape's rarest and most expensive ingredients lay behind those doors.

_Steal from my stores, will you?_ He thought, withdrawing his wand.

The wizard moved so slowly that it took him a full minute to reach his destination. He wasn't concerned with any possible danger; only the horrific punishment that awaited the impetuous intruder.

Standing in front of the door, he lifted the ward and ripped it open.

"Lumos!" he shouted, stopping just short of a full invasion.

Snape was immediately struck by the sight of two naked bums, humping away on the floor.

"Ah!!" he yelped, falling backwards and covering his face as if he'd been burned.

"Ack!" Olivia squealed, followed by a similar shriek from her partner. Both elves scrambled to cover their exposed parts.

"What the hell?!" Snape bellowed. He was shielding his eyes with one hand and shaking his wand violently with the other.

Olivia practically flew into her toga-like uniform while Colby took his sweet time. Human or not, Snape was a male. Surely, he'd understand. Fortunately, house elves didn't have much to work with in the way of clothing so it didn't take long for them to make themselves presentable.

"Is it safe?" Snape nauseously asked.

"Yes, Professor, we is decent," Olivia replied.

Severus lowered his hand to find one forlorn house elf standing before him. The other wasn't nearly so affected. In fact, he seemed a little peeved. Severus recognized the helper immediately.

_Colby …_

"What the h-e-l-l is going on?"

Blushing profusely, Olivia lowered her head.

"Olivia is very sorry."

Snape turned to the washer elf. Colby shrugged.

"Colby thinks the Professor knows," he said lamely.

The comment earned him a swift kick to the calf from Olivia.

"Wh-what?" the wizard sputtered, not believing his ears.

"Colby and Olivia was making whoopee. Didn't you see us?" he said, imitating the pumping motion that nearly blinded him.

Severus quickly covered his eyes. "Yes! I saw!" he hissed, not wishing to relive the moment.

"Then why does you ask?" the confused elf replied.

Snape's hand and mouth dropped.

"Why? Why?! Why?! Because you were in MY storeroom!!" he seethed.

"Olivia thinks Colby better be quiet."

The male elf turned to his mate.

"But --- it's not like he was using it."

"Shhh!" she hissed.

Wrought with disbelief, Severus made a complete circle before slamming his hand down on the countertop. Olivia shrunk beneath his glare.

"Oh, please Professor do not tells the Headmistress that we was being naughty! Olivia and Colby is very, very sorry!"

"Colby is not sorry. Colby was having a good time," earning himself a second, more powerful kick.

Stunned by his audacity, Snape simply stared at the creature. He'd never heard of such a blatantly disrespectful elf.

"You little cretin, at least Olivia has the good sense to appear remorseful."

"Colby don't understand why he should be sorry. Humping is natural and it feels good. Humans does all the time; especially, young ones."

"They do not!" the wizard defended, despite the lunacy of his claim.

"They do! Colby can name lots of wizards who do it; some of them with more than one witch!"

Snape opened his mouth to object but nothing came out.

"Colby is pretty sure the Professor has done it too."

"I …" he said, stopping before he slit his own throat. "We do not do ... THAT in storerooms! It's indecent and unsanitary, not to mention a complete invasion of privacy," he quipped, hoping to justify his self-righteousness with a bit of truth.

Snape was a natural conservative but his prudish behavior was based on inopportunity more than reason. He was a red blooded man with red blooded needs but those needs took a backseat to his looks. Since loosing his virginity behind a pub with a devastatingly drunk patron, he'd only been laid a handful of times. His jealously of folks who 'got it' on a regular basis led him to adopt a puritan attitude which conveniently masked his sexual insecurities and inexperience. In short, he was freak without a show.

"Okay, okay … Colby is sorry for _humping_ Olivia in your storeroom. Does the Professor forgive us?"

"Stop --- saying that," he winced.

"Well does he?"

Snape closed his eyes and considered his options. Olivia was a favorite of his and in all fairness, a good elf. The last thing he wanted was to make trouble for her but Colby ..., well, he was another story entirely.

"I will have to think about it," he grumbled.

Olivia elbowed her friend.

"Colby please go back to the washroom so Olivia can talks to the Professor."

"But ---" the elf complained.

"Olivia says go!" She barked, forcing the elf to cringe.

Snape arched his brow amusingly. It was clear who wore the pants in their relationship. Sighing, Colby folded his arms and poofed back to the washroom. After he was gone, Olivia turned to the Professor.

"Olivia is very …"

"Yes, yes, I KNOW … you're sorry."

"Olivia was going to say, embarrassed."

The wizard rolled his eyes and dropped against the counter. Pinching his nose, he tried to forcibly expel the image of the elves having sex from his mind.

_I have witnessed some horrible things in my lifetime but nothing quite that disturbing._

Moments later, he lowered his hand and looked down.

"Honestly, Olivia, what were you thinking?"

"Olivia likes Colby. She likes him a lot. Colby is a good elf, really. He just ...," she stalled, trying to the think of the perfect word to describe her insolent boyfriend.

"Rude, impertinent, ill-mannered, disrespectful?"

"Wizardless," she answered.

The look on Severus's face said it all.

"Colby has never served a witch or wizard before. He was born and raised at Hogwarts."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Did you not read the book Olivia gave you?"

"What book?"

"The Mysteries of Elvedon," she said importantly. "It contains all our history and magic."

"Oh, yes … that."

_In the period known as middle Earth … _he recalled.

"What about it?"

"Did you read it?"

"Yes …, I read a little but then I fell asleep." Severus confessed, appearing slightly apologetic. Olivia said that no human had laid eyes on the book in over two hundred years which by all rights, made it important; to her at least.

The elf glowered over his answer. "How much did you read?" she asked.

"I don't remember," he lied.

Actually, the wizard barely made it through page six before he conked out. As far as literature went, it wasn't exactly the pinnacle of fine writing.

"Perhaps, you could summarize it for me?"

Olivia climbed on top the work table and sat down. Snape wrinkled his nose in abhorrence over the idea of her naked, recently sexed bum adorning his countertop but said nothing.

"Once upon a time, all sorts of magical creatures roamed the land ---"

"How long ago was this?" Snape asked, cutting her intro short.

The elf's eyes became dull. "Olivia doesn't know but it was a very, very long time ago. No more talking," she chastised.

"Back then, there was lots of magical people and not as many Muggles …"

"I like this story …" said Snape before noticing the daggers in Olivia's eyes. "Sorry … please continue."

"Anyway, elves didn't always look like Olivia and Colby. The old elves looked like wizards. Their skin was glittery and their ears were pointed but they looked human. The old elves was very wise. They had very strong healing magic and lived for a very long time. Olivia's people was called imps and they lived in the forest. Imp magic was strong but different from wizarding magic. Our magic comes from the outside and wizard's magic comes from the inside." She explained, making a fine point of this with her hands.

"Are you implying that your magic is based on the elements?" he said confusingly.

Olivia shook her head. She didn't fully grasp his meaning but she was pretty sure he was wrong.

"Olivia's magic comes from magic. If there was no more magic, Olivia would not exist. The Professor's magic comes from in there," she said, pointing to his chest.

Snape assumed she was referring to his soul.

"You would still live even if all the magic in the world disappeared."

"Go on ..." he said.

"Well, imps and elves got along really good but imps didn't trust humans much, especially Muggles. Back then, wizards and Muggles ate, slept and made war together. They was always warring with Centaurs, Merrows, Dwarves, Harpies, Goblins, Huderfolks, Trolls ..."

Olivia droned on for several moments.

"Why?" Severus interrupted.

"Olivia thinks they was afraid."

"And you say that wizards fought with them??"

She nodded.

"Wizards back then was different. They acted like Muggles."

"Impossible," he snorted, believing that Muggles were anything but comparable. Death Eater or not, Severus still had his reservations about them. They were ignorant, easily angered and lazy. His abusive father had been a Muggle and he was a prime example if there ever was one.

"It is true. Back then, wizards was just learning their magic. They was young magicians."

The Professor's face bloomed with intrigue. According to historians, wizards emerged around 3000 B.C. They settled on an isle named, Antioch in the Mediterranean Sea. From there, they migrated to various parts of the world. Yes, there were stories of powerful sorcerers prior to that time but no record of an entire people having existed before the first settlement. If any part of Olivia's story was true, it is was very likely the Mysteries of Elvedon pre-dated their own history. Some of the creatures she named, Merrows, Huderfolks and Harpies, were now extinct but remnants of their existence could be found in a few obscure texts.

"Well, one day, it happened. The Muggles made war on Elvedon and there was a big fight between the old elves and man. Since imps didn't like man, they went to fight for the old elves. Lots of creatures did."

"I imagine the Muggles launched this campaign to wipe out their strongest rival," he reasoned.

Olivia nodded. The Mysteries of Elvedon described the old elves as the wisest creatures that ever existed.

"Olivia thinks that too," she said, happy that the wizard was paying attention. "But the old elves was no match for the humans. They only had healing magic, not bad magic and the wizards fought with all kinds of trickery. One day, the elves decided they no longer wanted to fight and threw down their weapons but the humans kept coming. The Muggles was vicious! They'd cut off the elves heads and put them on pikes for everyone to see. Whenever they'd catch imps, they'd tie them up and burn them alive. Legend has it that they even made small children fight to the death! When the wizards finally saw how evil the Muggles was, they left but by then, it was too late. Many had died."

Olivia collected her thoughts before continuing. She wasn't upset just tired. The Professor didn't know it but she and Colby had been humping for almost an hour before he walked in.

"When the old elves saw that man would never change, they left."

"Where did they go?"

"Nobody knows but legend says they left this world for another, more magical world; a place Muggles could not follow. After they disappeared, there was no one left to protect the magical kingdoms so … the imps took up arms and fought the humans. It took a long time but they finally won."

"You won?? The imps defeated the Muggles?" Snape said incredulously.

"Yes. Without the wizards, the Muggles didn't stand a chance."

"Then …" he began, bristling over the strangeness. "Then why do you serve wizards??"

"We owes the wizards a great debt."

"Clearly, I missed something."

Olivia took a deep breath.

"After the imps was done with the Muggles, they turned on the wizards. They was very mad at them for helping the Muggles and punished them hard. There wasn't many wizards left when the war was done. Soon, Muggles started taking over everything."

"I see …," said Snape, beginning to comprehend the incredible debt Olivia spoke of. "So, you enslaved yourselves to work off your debt?"

A look of shame flashed in Olivia's eyes.

"Yes. If it wasn't for the war, there would be more wizards and less Muggles. Many died before they could learn how to do magic."

Hearing this, Snape struggled not to react. He wasn't angry with Olivia, just put off by the thought.

"Well ..., it's reasonable to assume that with the old elves gone, the Muggles grew stronger. Eventually, they would have destroyed whatever magic existed. I imagine this didn't sit well with the imps. After all, they'd perish without magic. Am I correct?"

"Yes and as punishment for their terrible deeds, imps swore a blood oath. They swore to protect and serve wizards for as long as Muggles outnumber them."

_Intriguing …_

"Curious ... why do you call yourselves elves? Why not imps?" he asked.

"Imps did very bad things," Olivia murmured.

"I see … so you took the name elf to mask your history?" Snape reasoned.

Olivia shrugged.

"Very well, now that you've thoroughly educated me on the Mysteries of Elvedon, explain to me again what this has to do with Colby?"

"Colby has never served a wizarding family. An unbound elf is more like an imp and imp isn't bound to the oath until he submits. In other words, Colby is free."

Snape's mouth became very thin. "A _true_ rebel," he sneered.

"Yes, he is. That's why Olivia loves him," she said dreamily.

The Professor's face clouded. "Out," he ordered, his lip curled in disgust.

"Did Olivia say something wrong?"

"Oh, you needn't be concern about your verbal offenses," he said irritably.

The elf suddenly panicked.

"Is the Professor going to tell the Headmistress what Olivia did?"

"What on earth would possess me to recount that horrible scene to anyone?! I'm barely able to keep it out of mind as it is!"

Olivia sprang to her feet.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!!!" She praised.

Snape turned towards the door. "Go," he barked.

"Yes, yes, Olivia goes."

"Oh, and one more thing …"

"Mm?"

"If I _ever_ catch you and Colby 'humping' in my storeroom again, I won't hesitate to sever his little nads and use them as door chimes," he darkly informed.

With that, Severus spun away and stormed out of the lab, leaving a very disturbed looking elf behind.

* * *

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	36. The Sorceress's Stones

**A/C:** Please read responsibly. Rated 'M' for Mature. Thank you.

* * *

Hermione strolled into the girl's guest lavatory to find it blissfully deserted. The bathroom in Gryffindor was under siege and she was in no mood to squabble with her housemates over mirror rights.

Moments after arriving, the clock chimed. It was now 10:00 pm. Thankfully, Sweetie didn't perform bed checks until after 11:00 and he rarely inspected the girl's sector; however, if accosted, her roommates might be tempted to report her absence. There was plenty of pettiness to be had among the young cubs and it seemed her housemates were capable of anything these days.

_I'll be quick …,_ she thought.

Hermione removed her tooth brush, spearmint paste and floss from her pajama bag and placed her wand on the sink. She always brushed her teeth thoroughly before bed, leaving her parents little reason to scold her when she returned home to visit. Though she was an adult now, even by Muggle standards, oral hygiene was a must in the Granger family.

When she was finished, Hermione readied the shower and undressed. She made quick work of it, dumping her clothes into a sloppy pile on the floor. Nude and shivering, Hermione stepped into the steamy stall and washed hurriedly under the spill of hot water.

* * *

Standing in his study, adorned in slippers and a night shirt, Severus gazed hypnotically into the coils of fire. The sight of two elves having sex had ruined his mind for leisure and therefore, sleep.

_Irresponsible peckers …_ he thought, grimacing over the image one last time.

Forcibly, the wizard's turned his thoughts towards Granger and her impetuous theories. Granted, her ideas had merit but they were incomplete and unproven, conjecture mostly. Yes, he suspected Malfoy of treachery, Adrian especially but it was too soon to assume the worst. He would simply have to keep a closer eye on Draco. As far as the Spanish lolita went, she wouldn't be the first witch in history to slip a wizard lust tonic; just the first who tried to slip him one. He needed something more concrete than a tacky chit with low morals. For example, how much did they know about this woman? What were her credentials? While he was sure that McGonagall examined the witch's annals thoroughly, one could never be too careful. With so many of the Dark Lord's followers at large, the school's security was a priority.

Snape flicked his wand over the flames. "Headmistress," he called.

No response.

"Minerva, are you awake?"

"Severus? Is that you?" a drowsy voice responded. "What is it?"

"I do apologize for calling so late but I must speak with you."

Minerva, who had fallen asleep on the study couch, got up and shuffled to the hearth.

"Is something wrong?" she said worriedly. It was unlike Severus to call after she retired.

"It's about Professor Torres …" he answered, his lip curling over her name like a bad piece of fruit.

McGonagall wiped the sleep from her face. "What?" she blurted.

"I am merely curious … what can you tell me about her record prior to her Professorship at Hogwarts?"

_Oh, for the love of Merlin._

"Severus, what is this about?"

The wizard idled for several seconds. He wasn't ready to confide his suspicions in the Headmistress, especially since she was among those indicted in the increasing strangeness at Hogwarts.

"Old habits die hard, Minerva …," he said, taking care to use her name as a means of leverage. She, like Dumbledore, liked for her Professors to think of her as a friend. "My interest is based on practical concern. What can you tell me about her?"

Minerva rolled her eyes. She was too tired and far too familiar with the wizard's suspicious nature to give a damn.

"Paranoid as ever, I see."

"Yes," he freely conceded.

"She taught Magical Theory for six years at the Durmstrang Institute. Prior to that, she tutored young children from well-to-do families in Germany, France and London. According to her record she worked as a privateer in Spain, her home country, for many years before that. If you must know, she came highly recommended; in fact, her references equate to nearly a half a parchment! Frankly, we should feel very fortunate to have her. As you know, Hogwarts has a limited budget, far inferior to that of Durmstrang."

Snape bristled. He was reluctant to use the term fortunate and Torres in the same sentence unless the phrase 'sound hexing' was included somehow.

"Apart from you, she is notably the best person for job."

"I see …," he retorted.

Suddenly, it dawned on Minerva why he was calling.

"Severus, I hope you don't regret declining the position. What's done is done and Torres is a fine teacher. Admittedly, she has a lot to learn about this school and its faculty but the students seemed to be learning a great deal in her class."

Struck by the oddity of the witch's assumption, the wizard rolled towards the fire.

"I don't regret my decision to return to Potions. It's where I belong. I was merely curious to know more about her."

"Ah," the witch recanted. It made sense that he'd want to know more about his rumored lover.

"More to the point, her _qualifications._" The wizard nastily corrected. He knew perfectly well what Minerva was thinking.

'Women,' he intoned.

"Well, I've shared everything that I'm allowed. The rest is confidential."

Severus brooded over Minerva's refusal to provide him more information. He was sure she wasn't telling him everything.

"Of course ..., thank you."

"Good night, Severus," said the drowsy witch before closing the hall of communication.

The wizard paced his study. There was much he didn't understand and even more he didn't believe but he was stuck at the moment. Perhaps, he was as Minerva said, paranoid but what if he wasn't? What if what Granger was right? She certainly seemed convinced that something was afoot and despite her annoying, know-it-all nature he too felt something was amiss. He had felt it for some time; long before their uninvited encounter.

Snape's face twitched over the recollection. Though his memory was still fuzzy, just seeing the sofa where their exchange took place forced his eyes to flutter. Pinching his nose tightly, Severus did his best to expel the image of Hermione's soft mouth from his mind.

"And to think, it almost ended in a shag … an irresponsible, disgraceful, reckless fuck ..." he breathed before pausing to consider whether or not Hermione was a virgin and if so, how that one impulsive act would have affected her later on. He quickly rebuffed the idea with a headshake.

"I'm sure that imbecile Ronald Weasley managed to conquer those grounds long before I came along."

Now restless, Snape grabbed his tatty housecoat from the corner of the room and wrapped himself tightly. He doubted whether he'd find any students wandering the corridors on a Tuesday night but patrol was preferable to boredom and frustration.

"I need to get out of here," he snapped.

* * *

Hermione stood under the sprinkles of soothing water and absorbed the heat. She was oblivious to fact that more than thirty minutes had passed since she entered the stall but she didn't care. Awed by the sensation, she slowly circled around; letting the hot jet stream caress her backside.

"This feels so good …," she murmured.

Hermione stopped short of a full rotation when she spied a soft glow from the corner of her eye. The light was coming from her pocket on the floor. Alarmed, she turned off the water and peeked her head out of the glass door. Her pocket was burning brightly beneath its cloth in shades of scarlet, gold, emerald and blue. Some of the light managed to escape the fabric, creating a display of psychedelic ambiances on the shower room walls.

Hermione snatched a towel off the rack, slipped out of the shower and crept over to the pile of discarded clothing.

"Okay, guys ... what's this all about?" she said, removing the stones from her coat; the very same gems she stole from the house depositories for the purpose of researching their altered appearance.

Instantly, Hermione fell under the spell of their radiance. Each had its own elegance; its own unique beauty but it was the Gryffindor gem that ensnared her vision. It was like gazing into a flickering flame.

"So, pretty ..."

Mesmerized, the witch shuffled the stones in her palm, creating a dance of brilliant light on her face. She couldn't help but smile. They were so enticing, so very beautiful. In fact, the attraction was so intense that she failed to notice the presence of certain mischievous poltergeist looming behind.

Grinning fiendishly, Peeves floated forward.

* * *

Snape began his patrol on the upper level, spot checking the library and empty digs that lay between. Though he was working, his heart wasn't in it. If a student had been wandering about after curfew, it would have taken an act of dumb luck to catch them at the rate he was breezing through the corridor. Subconsciously, the wizard just wasn't up to the task of apprehending rule breakers that night. It was the reason he chose to patrol so far out of his jurisdiction.

_Don't you think it's strange that Torres would choose to converse so intimately with a student she barely knows?_ He recalled.

At once, Severus thoughts turned to Hermione and her theories; to her annoying presumptions and with extreme reluctance, to the night of the Halloween Masquerade.

"Stop it!" he hissed, verbally waylaying his haunted libido. "Just stop it."

* * *

Peeves eased forward. Though he was a poltergeist and in no danger of being heard, his moves were predatory-like; similar to a panther sneaking up its prey.

"Peeves spies a bad Gryffindor!" he shouted from behind.

Gripping the stones, Hermione swung around and nearly lost her towel in the process.

"Peeves!" she screamed.

Cackling, the poltergeist charged forward, prompting Hermione to get out of dodge. She immediately regretted her decision when she saw Peeves swoop down and scoop up her clothing.

"No!" She hissed.

The witch leaped forward but Peeves circled away. He quickly darted to the sink and snatched her bag and wand.

"Give those back," She growled.

"Na-Na-boo-boo! Make me!" He said, bouncing merrily.

Hermione secured her towel. "I'm going to kill you!" She snarled.

"Naughty, naughty, naughty --- now Peeves runs. Catch me if you can!"

Laughing, the miscreant shot out of the lavatory and into the dark corridor. Hermione ran after him but he was too fast. The last she thing saw was Peeves disappear around the bend, her clothes thrashing in tow.

"Come back here you little wanker!"

The poltergeist could be heard chuckling in the distance but his mockery wasn't nearly as disturbing as the small light growing from behind. It left two shadows on the ground. One was hers. One was not.

"Miss Granger?" said Snape in a bewildered voice.

Hermione clenched her fists and closed her eyes. Seconds or perhaps hours later, she opened them and wheeled around.

"Professor," she plainly greeted.

"Explain," he said, running his lit wand over her sparsely decorated frame. The expression on his face was pure shock.

"I …" She blushed.

"This should be good," he remarked.

"I wanted to take a shower and the Gryffindor bathroom was full so … I came here."

"I see … and your bath couldn't wait until morning?"

Hermione's shade only deepened. From the outside looking in, her reason must have seemed ridiculous.

"As you know, sir, my housemates and I haven't been getting along. Frankly, I just felt more comfortable here."

"Undoubtedly --- Gryffindors always feel more comfortable wandering about the castle after curfew. It's a wonder why Minerva doesn't hold evening classes," he said sardonically.

Hermione bit her lip.

"And the wanker? It's not a term generally used by proper witches but then, you seem a little short on propriety at the moment ... along with everything else."

"Proper? I couldn't give a flip about proper. Peeves stole my clothes and my wand!"

Snape's smirk became watery. It floated from one corner of his mouth to the other until finally, he was smiling.

"Is that so? Not a flip?" He mocked.

"Sir, this is serious. Peeves has my wand! And my clothes! You have to help me get them back."

"I _must_ do nothing, Miss Granger." He calmly countered after surveying her damp, peek-a-boo flesh through a hooded glance. The gesture was so slight that it went completely undetected.

"Please, Professor --- he has my wand," she urged.

The witch appeared genuinely upset, nearly to the point of tears. As a rule, she wasn't the crying sort but being caught after curfew, half-naked by a man whom she shared a fantasy, only to be rejected afterwards, was upsetting. Not only that but the poltergeist had her wand; her most treasured possession.

Severus recoiled from the witch with a sneer. The thought of having a tearful woman on his hands was enough to make any man acquiesce. He would have time to punish her later but for now, staving off the waterworks was his first priority.

"Alright, alright --- come with me," he said, brushing passed the witch at full speed.

"Thank you, Professor Snape. I won't forget this. Thank you."

"DON'T … thank me. I'm not sure if I can handle anymore gratitude tonight," he snapped, suddenly recalling his conversation with Olivia.

Though confused, the towel clad Gryffindor smiled and followed the tatty robed wizard down the hall.

"Wait --- where are we going?"

"To visit the Bloody Baron," Snape answered. "He has a way with Peeves. He'll listen to him."

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks.

"We're going to the dungeons?"

Pausing mid-step, the wizard whisked back around. "Is there a problem?" he asked, mildly annoyed that she would question his help so soon after asking for it.

Hermione shivered against the cold. "No sir, it's just …" she tried.

Suddenly, a light turned on in the wizard's head. Perhaps out of pity, embarrassment or some sense of duty, he removed his housecoat and offered it to the poorly dressed witch.

"Here take this," he huffed. "I am in no mood to visit Gryffindor and if I allow you to roam around looking like that the Headmistress will have a conniption!"

Hermione's face lit up; partly because of the wizard's gallantry and partly because of his attire underneath. The mid-calf gown he was wearing was similar to his day robes but instead of black, it was grey. It possessed a high collar and a number of buttons but no trouser or pajama pants. In truth, all Snape needed was a night cap and his impersonation of Scrooge from a Christmas Carol would be complete.

Hermione eagerly accepted the Professor's offer. Though the coat was shabby and discolored, it was warm and very soft. It was also rich with his scent; black wood, cauldron smoke and a hint of spice.

"Happy?" he pitched.

Hermione nodded and they resumed their course. Wordlessly, Snape led Granger down the shifting stairwell to the dungeon and through the moldy canals of the sublevels.

"Baron, come out!" Snape called. "I must speak with you!"

"Who goes there?!" a voice echoed.

"It is I, Severus Snape. Show yourself."

Moments later, the ghost of Slytherin sunk through the ceiling and smiled.

"Good evening, Professor. How may I be of service?"

"I am here on a matter involving Peeves. He's been up to his usual shenanigans and I --- _we _need your help."

The Bloody Baron floated backwards.

"Peeves? What has he done now?!"

Amused, Snape glanced back at Hermione. She scowled when she caught the look of absurdity on his face.

'This could have only happened to a Gryffindor …' his expression read.

"What?" She tersely replied.

"He robbed Miss Granger of her wand and as you see, her clothes. Would it be possible for you to retrieve them?"

"Well … I don't know," the ghost reluctantly replied. He wasn't in the habit of assisting young Gryffindors. After taking into account the witch's damp hair and mannish robe, he asked "Where did this occur? Peeves knows better than to trespass into a lady's room while occupied."

"Miss Granger was using the guest lavatory on the fourth floor. She was …" said Snape, pausing over the lunacy. "… in desperate need of a shower, she claims."

Hermione broke with an incredulously snort aimed at the back of Snape's head. "I never used the term desperate, Professor. Besides it doesn't matter where I was at the time it happened. It happened and that's enough! Peeves is a dirty, rotten thief ... a bloody wanker!! No doubt, a Slytherin when he was alive," she scoffed.

The Baron swelled with indignation but before he could respond, Snape rounded on the Gryffindor.

"If you desire our help, I suggest you mind your attitude and your mouth!" he hissed, towering over the petite witch like a pale statue. Despite the wizard's slender mass, he was much taller than Granger and eclipsed her body easily.

"As far as your take on his affiliation goes, Peeves came with the school. He belongs to no house and answers to no one except the ghost of Slytherin. You will respect the Baron in my presence or risk losing more than your clothes."

Fisting the gems, Hermione matched the Professor's glare. Though the voices in her head warned her to stop, something inside her wouldn't allow her to relent. Milliseconds passed into seconds as the stare-off continued. Snape was on the verge of a verbal assault when finally, she spoke.

"Sorry," she spat.

The Baron narrowed his ghostly silver eyes skeptically. "Hardly an apology," he grumbled.

Snape nodded. "Yes … hardly," refusing to take his eyes off the Gryffindor.

"Very well --- Professor, if it is _your_ wish, I will do my best to retrieve the items you asked for but it may take awhile, perhaps the night. I am not familiar with all of Peeves hiding places."

Snape did not budge. He was fixated on Hermione.

"Please do but when you find Peeves, have him report to me. I will return Miss Granger's things to her tomorrow."

"Of course," the Baron said haughtily. If he knew Snape, he was probably planning to hold the items hostage. Perhaps he'd ransom her wand for a real apology.

'In my day, it would have been off to stocks with her,' mumbled the ghost as he floated away.

Once he was gone, Snape mellowed. "What has gotten into you?" He asked.

Something in his voice suggested that he was trying to understand, that he wasn't out to 'thrash' a Gryffindor. This seemed to defuse her irritation. Soon, Hermione found herself on the losing side of anger. She had no idea why she reacted the way she did or why she was so annoyed with the wizard.

"I don't know," she blushed.

Her sudden change in demeanor did not go unnoticed nor did it escape his nets that perhaps she was deceiving him.

"Miss Granger … it has been my long standing opinion that you are an insufferable brat; a much celebrated intellectual with a mild inferiority complex but I have never known you to be so blatantly confrontational. Personally, I would rather not give merit to the majority's rule on your behavior lately but it begs the question, what is your problem?"

Now ashamed, Hermione opened her hand and glanced down. Inside laid the sparkling gems.

"I don't know …," she murmured.

The stones had lost some of their brilliance but they were still aglow. Seeing this, Snape eased forward.

"What are those?"

Hermione did not respond.

"Let me see them," he rudely ordered.

Again, she said nothing.

"Miss Granger, give me the stones."

"Sir ...," she meekly began.

Snape, now certain something was wrong, inched closer.

"Give them here," he delicately insisted.

Hermione forced herself to glance up. Brown met black and once again, they were caged; neither willing to budge. After a moment, Hermione's eyes made a detour down Snape's hooked nose to his mouth and uneven hills. Locks of his disheveled, black tresses pierced his pale cheeks like razors, suggesting that he hadn't combed it all day. Though her scrutiny was intense, the wizard didn't seem to notice. He appeared to be studying the witch equally severity. It felt as if he was peering right into her soul, furthering the suspicion that he might be part vampire.

"Yes --- of course," she whispered, holding the gems out as bait.

Snape narrowed the small space between them and reached for the jewels. He blinked in surprise when the witch closed her fist at the last second.

"Miss --- "

Severus was brutally interrupted with a kiss. Instinctively, he moved backwards but the witch held on. She wrapped her hands, arms and legs around his body until finally, he was struggling keep his balance. In all the excitement, he dropped his wand and the lumos spell extinguished. Now, the stones encased in Hermione's grip were the only source of illumination. A few of the rays managed to escape her grasp. It seared the darkness with a soft ambiance that went completely undetected.

Hermione was overcome with lust. She didn't care that the object of her desire was fighting her tooth and nail. She didn't care that she was ravaging her Potions Master in a dank, dark, dirty corridor. And she especially didn't care that they stood a very good chance of getting caught. None of those things mattered.

Snape's lashes flung apart when the witch began to rape his mouth with her tongue. She was mimicking the wicked nature of sex in a mix of salvia and soft heat but the blissful assault didn't compare to the feel of her nether regions grinding wantonly against his groin. Naturally, his cock responded with no prejudice.

_Mercy …_

"_Wehavetostop_!" he breathed.

Hermione's legs gripped the wizard's waist like a vice. Using her free hand, she tore open her housecoat and ripped the towel off.

"Fuck me," she murmured, semi-aware of what she was saying

Whatever hope Severus harbored about regaining control of his body quickly vaporized. His sword was perfectly straight. It seemed the only thing safeguarding her chastity was a thin layer of clothing which could be manipulated with the right words. Hermione glanced down. The wizard was pitching a tent. Though sheathed, she could see that he was at least eight or nine inches in size which prompted a meltdown inside.

"Stop …," he feebly protested. His conscience was screaming no but his long neglected loins were driving him mad.

"Fuck me," said the witch, grounding her thatch against his bulbous tool. The ache in her pelvis was nearly unbearable.

A soft growl escaped Snape's mouth. He could feel her need, even through his clothes but was it real? Breathing heavily, Severus glanced down to find his shirt was soiled with Hermione's desire. The damp area harbored a thin layer of clear lubricant that stuck to her flesh each time she moved. With his resolve quickly waning, he swung the wanton chit around and slammed her body against the wall.

"_Stop_ …," he urged.

That meager protest served as Severus's last testament. Soon, his better judgment would fall to darkness.

Grimacing, Hermione rejected the Professor's request with another kiss. She coveted his mind, body and spirit as if it were a tangible object she could possess. She had to have him. She wanted to feel the wizard working inside her. She needed for him to feel her but most of all she needed him to need her, to ache for her as she ached for him.

"Do it, please …" she softly beckoned, tasting his lips more gently this time.

The witch's plea shattered what was left of Severus's resolve. Using one arm to support himself, he lifted his gown and pulled at his shorts. He managed to get them a portion of the way down before he abandoned the task. The wizard repositioned his hand underneath Hermione's thigh and angled his hips. Hissing from indescribable pleasure, he pumped his length between her soft, slick folds. He purposely teased the wanton witch in an effort to make her say it again.

"Do it Professor … fuck me," she begged.

The smell of sex in the corridor was strong. Hermione was dripping buckets of lubrication. Snape's attempt to further arouse the insatiably chit had resulted in a well oiled cock, perfect for plowing dirty mouth witches.

_It's been ages since I last did this … _he thought, a smidgen of resentment creeping to the forefront of his mind. There were days that he hated having spent so much time in the service of others; a lone Slytherin with the world on his plate. What about his wants? What about his needs?

"Now …, do it, now ..." Hermione breathed.

Snape became rigid but only for a moment. He gazed into the half lidded eyes of his partner with renewed awe. Some distant part of him couldn't believe what he was about to do but the other, the part lingering between her slippery thighs, couldn't care less.

"Proper witches don't beg," he purred.

Hermione barely registered the wizard's degrading remark before her eyes sprang to life. In a single, powerful stroke Snape buried his cock deep inside her body. The witch shrieked, only to have her mouth covered in a heated rush.

"Shhh ..." he quieted, searching her body for what he had done wrong. It didn't take him long to figure out why she was crying.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked; his voice shallow and desperate. "Why didn't you tell me you were a virgin??"

Panting, Hermione met his pained expression.

"It doesn't matter …," she said hoarsely.

"It does matter, you silly girl! Or at least … it did."

"Go on … I want you too ---"

Snape snarled violently. "No! We have to stop … we should ---" he sputtered, withdrawing his blood streaked member. The sting of his retreat was painful but not nearly as painful as the look of duplicity on the wizard's face. This was a man torn between betrayal and his conscience.

Snape gently lowered Hermione to the floor and snapped his shorts back into place. She too refastened her robe, making no attempt to rekindle the fire they shared just moments earlier.

"You should have told me …" he murmured. "You should have … _told_ me."

Hermione's heart sank. "I didn't think you would care," she weakly defended.

The answer earned her nothing. The Potions Master stepped back and picked up his wand. Upon relighting it, Hermione saw that the stony gargoyle was back; all trace of tenderness gone.

"Then you think as little of me as you do yourself," he said coldly.

The shrewdness in his voice left the witch feeling empty. She couldn't speak. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't move, except to blink. Snape quietly observed his one-time partner; ever mindful that she was a woman now and women were calculating, cunning creatures.

Very soon, Hermione's body surrendered to the hurt and she released the stones she'd been carrying. They fell to floor like pebbles, each of them now muddy and discolored. Much like their hosts, they were no longer glowing.

"I will …" She choked. "I will … stop by your desk after class --- to collect my things. Goodnight, sir …"

Snape moved out of the way and allowed the witch to pass. He silently watched her disappear down the corridor; wandless and dismayed. The sight of her sadness, tugged at his heart strings but the Slytherin in him said it was all an act; a play for his pity. He would not allow himself to be fooled again. After she was gone, he braced the wall and slid down its cold stones until he was resting on the floor. After extinguishing his wand, Severus sat motionless in the dark for a long time.

'Virgin _…_'

The darkness had always been a friend to him. It was, after all, a part of his nature. It protected him, comforted him and in times such as these, hid him from the world and himself but tonight the darkness betrayed him. It prevented him from seeing the truth and the truth was, he had taken something sacred; a young woman's innocence. Had it been for love, he could deal with it but what they shared wasn't anything close to affection; startling lust, yes, but not courtly passion.

Soon, the sound of a sleeping castle invaded the wizard's dark refuge, blackening is already black mood. Why was everything so unfair?

"Of all the insane, reckless, STUPID ---"

Snape stopped short of a full onslaught when he noticed two of the stones Hermione dropped were sparkling. He was not yet aware of their origins but regardless of where they came from, they shouldn't have been glowing in the dark. Snape reached out and scooped up the pieces. The green gem was the most active of the four but they were all glinting peculiarly.

'Little chit ... what have you been up too?' He intoned, captivated by the relfection of rolling water on the walls.

* * *

Hermione blasted open the dungeon doors and sped down the corridor sobbing uncontrollably. Her cries were accompanied by violent sniffles and hiccups every few seconds which made it difficult to walk but she forced herself to keep pace. For now, her only concern was reaching Gryffindor Tower undetected. If fate was any kind of friend, everyone would be fast asleep.

Adrian, who was just returning to Hogwarts, spotted the witch upon entering the castle through the courtyard. She said nothing to alert the tearful youth to her presence and watched from the shadows. Nothing would have pleased her more than to know why the witch was so upset.

"Tut, tut … tears of a broken heart," she soon deduced. "But who broke it I wonder??"


	37. Winged Devils

"But you're students, they're all busy," said Adrian, observing the first years hovering over their boiling cauldrons nervously. "And this will only take a minute."

The Potion Master remained impassive as he piddled around the classroom reviewing his student's work.

"Whether they're busy or not is immaterial. You are a distraction, a dangerous additive when combined with art of potion making. Now, please show yourself out," he evenly instructed.

Everyone looked on as the deadpan wizard returned to his grade book. Although they found his disregard of fellow teacher amusing, they dare not utter sound for fear that he might turn on them next. Snape already charged the class points for not having their homework assignments on his desk when he arrived. Everyone, including his own Slytherins, thought it was completely unfair since he usually assigned someone to take up the papers. They could only assume that their not-so- darling Professor was in a fouler than usual mood that day and it would best not to push his buttons. No pun intended.

"Very well, we'll talk later," she replied. "Have a good morning, Professor."

Snape continued jotting down his marks as if she wasn't there.

Seemingly unperturbed, Torres exited the classroom. The last thing she wanted was to annoy the horrible man. It might ruin her chances at earning some much needed brownie points. Rosa was becoming more insistent by the week, demanding that she get closer to the wizard; draw him in as it were, but getting to know the former Death Eater was proving impossible. Little did she know that her chances were already in the toilet and that she, Adrianna Ofelia Costilla Torres; bastard child of the witch barkeep, Clarisa Torres and the wizard gambler, Julio Costilla was nothing to more to him than despicable wench in teacher's robes.

The more distance Adrian put between herself and the Potions room, the harder and faster she stepped.

_I hate him! I simply hate him! _She raged; wounded by his embarrassing dismissal and repeated rejection. _I hate everything about him and this … this dung heap of a school! _

Hogwarts was anything but a dung heap but Adrian was accustomed to a higher standard of living and therefore, distained anything that wasn't luxurious. Too her, it was a country prison and the sentence was life if she didn't complete the task she was paid to do. Lady Karkaroff wasn't the understanding sort. She would not accept failure. Besides the money was nearly gone; exhausted on costly beauty aids, clothes and dangerous debt collectors.

Torres hurried back to her class. When she arrived, everyone was waiting. She acknowledged her male admirers, including Goyle, with simple glance as she walked proudly to the head of the room.

"Good morning, Professor Torres ..." said Ron in a puppy-love voice.

The greeting earned him a sideways glance from Harry, a wink from Adrian and a not-so-discreet scowl from Goyle. Was Weasley flirting with his lady?

Ron nearly melted. Torres was hot, too hot to be a teacher and way hotter than his girlfriend. He and Lavender were officially dating of course but the wizard still had his eyes on other prospects. Lavender was a caring individual, a decent shag and a superb hand job artist but emotionally, she was a little on the intense side. Sometimes she'd prattle on about their future together in the middle of a rub & tug. When that happened, Ron tried to think of her obsessive-compulsiveness as sexy rather than scary. It made it easier to come whenever she'd say things like, _"… and I want house on the lake, Won-Won._"

"Class, please remove your books and turn to chapter seventeen. Today we will be studying theory. I would like two full parchments explaining the nature and weaknesses of 'Winged Devils', also known as vampire bats by the end of class Friday. You will be expected to recite and perform the counter measures in our next meeting. Please utilize this class period to work on the assignment."

"Cool, vampire bats!" Finnigan murmured.

Harry and Ron nodded along.

"If you have any questions, I will available for comment," said Torres as she removed a copy of Witch Weekly from her desk drawer. She sincerely hoped no one bothered her.

* * *

Adrian paced the hall outside of Potions. It was nearly time for noon break and she wanted to catch Snape before lunch. Soon enough, the clock struck twelve; followed by the sound of clangs and pitter patters. Seconds after that, a roar of students burst through the classroom doors like vomit.

"Come on, let's get out of here before he assigns us all detention," one wizard muttered.

He and the others offered the Darks Arts teacher a weary look as if to say, 'enter at your own risk'.

Adrian waited for the children to exit the corridor. Apparently, they were anxious to get away from the Potions Master; more so than usual by the way they were scurrying down the hall. When she entered the classroom she found Snape polishing his utensils and mumbling obscenities. It seemed he was not having a good day.

"Ahem," she announced.

Severus barely looked up. "Yes, Professor, what is it?" he asked.

"Do you have a moment?"

The wizard stroked his severing blade with the precision of a surgeon. "Obviously," he replied, exchanging the instrument for another, sharper knife.

Smiling, Adrian waded across the room.

"I was wondering if you would you be available Friday to assist me with a small demonstration."

Snape kept working. "I have class," he informed.

"But it's important."

"So is my class."

"I'm sure Madam Pince would be happy to look after your students for you. It's just one period. More importantly, I am willing to compensate you for your time."

The wizard slowly glanced up. "Compensate? What do you mean by compensate?" he asked.

"I'll pay you," she said.

Snape's brows formed a bridge.

"Five galleons," Adrian amicably offered.

"Five galleons?" he repeated, shock clearly etched into his face.

"Ten??" She negotiated.

Few of his colleagues ever requested his assistance and no one, not even the idiot Lockhart, would ever insult him by offering money in exchange for help. In the academic world, that was a huge faux pas. And this woman was an experienced professional?

"Don't insult me," he finally replied; his lip curling in distaste. "Haggling is best reserved for alleyways and second hand stores. Have you no sense of decorum?"

Torres colored.

"I …"

"Firstly, my expertise far exceeds that of five or ten galleons and secondly, no one with an ounce of integrity would accept such an offer. I am a respected Professor at this school and your colleague; not a mercenary."

Adrian quietly regrouped. She hadn't meant to insult him. From her point of view, it was a valid offer but then she was a business woman; naturally, she'd see it that way. She learned from an early age that money was second only to blackmail and sex when negotiating.

"My apologies, Severus … my intention was not to insult you," she said, plainly embarrassed at this point. "I'm not accustomed to asking for help and I never expect anything for free. I really am sorry if I offended you."

Snape idled for a moment. He could sense that Adrian was being sincere which scratched his conscience ever so slightly.

"What does this _assistance_ entail?" he continued, straining to ignore the use of his first name.

Adrian breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed the wizard had an Achilles heel after all; honesty.

"Vampire bats; my seventh years will be performing defensive spells on Friday. I need someone to help ensure the lesson remains a controlled experiment. As the former Defence Against the Dark Art's instructor, I thought you would be ideal."

Severus's face contorted several times before it settled on a scowl. "You're bringing Winged Devils into the classroom? Actual vampire bats?" he said disbelievingly. They were hostile creatures; too hostile for a classroom.

"Yes. I've already received the Headmistress's approval. They will be arriving from Transylvania tomorrow."

"And you think that wise?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"If they should bite someone or escape into ---"

"That won't happen!" She snapped. "I will be there to stop the bats from escaping or worse, harming anyone. In the unlikely event that a student is attacked, Pomfrey has an adequate supply of anti-venom serum on hand. As long as it's administered within the first twenty-four hours, the victim won't suffer any long term effects."

Snape snorted. She would stop them? She? If _she_ were capable of controlling the creatures she wouldn't need his help, now would she?

"And you say McGonagall approved your request?"

Torres nodded.

"Bloody irresponsible if you ask me!" He spat.

"Well, I don't want or need your permission!" She retorted. "I merely wanted your expertise. If you're unable to assist me, I will ask Filius."

"Filius Flitwick is a Charms expert! The most he can hope to do is slow their rate of attack; that is, if he can catch them. They're extremely agile!"

Adrian smiled. If honesty didn't work, insinuating another man could do the job better would.

"Filius will suffice if you're too busy."

Snape cut his eyes to and from the witch. He didn't particularly like the idea helping her but the thought of having a less experienced wizard at the helm of such a dangerous experiment bothered him more.

"I will need to think about it … as I mentioned, I have class."

"I'm sorry, Professor, but I need your decision now. I will have to make other arrangements if you're unwilling ---"

"I'm thinking!" he snarled.

Frowning, Adrian bit her tongue. Were she not assigned to the greasy lunatic, she'd shrink his genitals; effectively transforming his silky baritone voice into a schoolboy tenor.

Snape busied himself.

"Well?" Torres pressed.

"I will assist you," he said, all trace of his previous irritation vanquished.

_Schizoid _…

"Thank you. I appreciate your cooperation. I'm sure my students will appreciate it too."

Severus said nothing. He knew perfectly well that her students would not appreciate seeing his skeletal face grace her classroom doors. The wizard was still very unpopular despite his improved social status.

"Was there anything else?" he asked, inspecting his utensils up close.

"No …," the witch drudgingly exhaled. "Wait, now that you mention it there is one other matter that I wish to bring to your attention."

"What is it?" He spat.

"It's about … Hermione Granger," she said carefully.

Snape remained deceptively cool but inwardly, his heart was hammering against his chest. "What about her?" he asked, examining the next tool with as much expertise as the last.

"Last night, I came across her in the corridor. She was running out of the dungeons in tears. Of course, I didn't stop her … sobbing young females aren't my specialty …," Torres said uncomfortably. "Anyway, I was wondering – did you see anything? Hear anything unusual last night? It would have been late, between 11:00 and 11:30."

"No, I didn't see or hear anything unusual. Moreover, I can't imagine what business Miss Granger would have in the dungeons at that hour," he said with all the warmth of winter.

"It's just … well, she seemed very upset."

Adrian was certain Granger's outing was a secret rendezvous of some sort but given the fact she was a Muggle-born, it seemed very unlikely she was in the dungeons visiting a Slytherin student. It was more likely she was there visiting Snape.

Adrian had long suspected the witch of being infatuated with her snarky Professor but she strongly believed those feelings were unreciprocated. Snape was definitely the type to refuse the brat if she approached him; probably, with the tact of Dementor.

"Miss Granger is not under my charge; therefore, her emotional state is none of my concern." He softly declared.

"I see," Torres nodded. "I just thought you might be interested to know that she was here, possibly visiting someone."

Snape set down his blade and reached for another, less jagged object. "Professor, if you don't mind, I have a lot of work to do," he said coolly but cordially.

"Yes, of course. I do hate to cause trouble for the young girl but perhaps, I should consult Professor Sweetie on the matter. He is her Head of House, after all."

Something new flashed in the wizard's eyes; something Adrian failed to notice. Had she recognized it, she would have known it was pure malice.

"That would be unwise," he blackly informed, discreetly removing his wand from his array of tools.

"Well, she ought ---" Torres paused.

Adrian gasped when she found herself suddenly staring down the stem of a black wand. The pale hand gripping it was attached to the arm of a very disturbed looking Potions Master.

Torres stumbled backward. "Wait," she said pleadingly.

"Obliviate!!!" He hissed.

A surge of blue light exploded from the tip of Snape's wand and engulfed the witch.

"Last night, you returned to the castle and went straight to bed. You saw nothing. You heard nothing. You experienced nothing unusual. This morning you stopped by to request my assistance but I refused to speak with you. You came back this afternoon and after much reluctance, I agreed. We discussed nothing outside of my agreement to help you." He carefully instructed.

The Dark Arts teacher replied with a dreamy nod.

"When I lower my wand you will remember nothing of this incident."

Now disoriented, Adrian swayed dizzily.

Severus calmly set his wand aside. "Was there anything else?" he asked.

Adrian was overcome by a sense of Déjà vu but did her best to ignore it. "Yes …," she vaguely recalled.

Snape frowned. Was he going to have to obliterate the entire conversation?

"I mean …, no," the witch corrected, her ghost of a memory now fading.

Smiling weakly, Adrian turned and left. She felt strange, very strange but she was also hungry. Perhaps, she'd feel better after she had something to eat.

Once she was gone, Snape secured the door and retreated to his office. He had a lot to think about and didn't wish to be disturbed until his next class. Upon entering, he was immediately accosted by the ghost of Slytherin.

_Damn!_

"Good afternoon, Professor Snape," the Baron mirthfully hailed. "I located the items you requested and the thief responsible."

"Really …" said Snape, glancing over to find Peeves skulking in the corner.

_Oh, yes … I had blissfully forgotten._

"Peeves!" the Baron shouted. "Over here, now! Peeves has something he would like to say."

"Um, no he doesn't," Peeves corrected.

The ghost of Slytherin rounded on the miscreant. "Is that so?" he hurled, his tone dripping with consequence.

Snape had no desire to undermine the Baron's authority but in all fairness, what could he do?

Peeves tried to appear ashamed. "Peeves is sorry," he lied.

"Apology accepted; now where are Miss Granger's things? Specifically, her wand," the wizard asked hastily. He was anxious to get rid of the ghosts so he could be alone.

"I had Peeves place them on your desk," the Baron answered.

"Next to the funny stones!" the poltergeist interjected.

Snape arched his brow curiously.

"Funny …? What do you mean by funny?"

Peeves shrugged.

"Answer the Professor!" the Baron snapped.

"They light up at night; very pretty!"

"You mean … you've seen the stones before?"

"Yes! Yes! Naughty, Hermione Granger had them last night!"

"Is that so ... what was she doing?" he pressed.

Peeves cuffed his eyeballs. "Just looking," he demonstrated. "She liked the fiery red one. It burned the brightest!"

Snape glanced at the stones lying dormant on his desk. "Are you certain that the red one was glowing?" recalling the spectacle the night before.

The spirit nodded.

"Not the green?"

"No, no --- it was the red!" he said rudely. "Peeves might not be alive but he's not blind, it was the red one not the green!"

The Bloody Baron looked between the poltergeist and the Potions Master.

"Professor, is something wrong?"

"Of that, I am certain …" he replied. "Peeves, do you know where she got the stones?"

He shook his head no.

"But if you ask Peeves, they look like point gems to me!"

"What?! That's impossible." the Baron snorted.

"Is not!"

"Is too! House gems are protected."

"Protected, smected"

"It's impossible, Peeves!"

"Is not!"

Snape rolled his eyes. It was quite possible that Peeves was correct. He knew Granger and she wasn't above stealing under the right circumstances. But why did she take them? How did she lift the ward? The jewels were charmed to alert the Headmistress in the event of tampering.

"Is not," Peeves droned.

"Is too!" the Baron replied.

"Yes, well …," Snape interrupted. "I am grateful for your assistance, Baron and yours, Peeves but I must ask that you leave me now. I have work to do."

The entities stopped arguing and looked down. Peeves stuck his tongue at the ghost when he turned and bowed to the Head of his esteemed House.

"Please do not hesitate to call upon me if you need anything else," he informed.

Snape agreed with a nod.

"Come along, Peeves," the Baron ordered.

The poltergeist intoned his final objection as he followed the ghost through the wall. "Is not," was the last thing Snape heard.

Once they were gone, the wizard hurried to his desk. He had to get a message to Hermione; to stop her from coming by to collect her things. They needed to meet, to talk but not that day; not while their encounter was so fresh.

Midway through the first sentence, Severus stopped writing. He was hard pressed not to think about what happened and his last words to the witch. Yes, they stung; they were meant too. His callousness was intended to pierce the budding woman's sentimental armor; to make her think about her actions … her choices … him and with any luck, it might prompt her to forget everything. If it didn't, he was more than willing to oblige her with a memory charm. However, unlike Adrian, he wouldn't simply obliviate the witch. He would give her choice.

_She should have told me … _he sulked; absently moving the tip his quill along the edge of his lips.

Slowly, the memory of Hermione's wanton flesh and soft mouth forced his desire to manifest physically. The mere thought of her needing him as badly as she did was enough to make his loins ache for relief; the kind of relief that could only be found in a sound fucking. Yes. He wanted to plow the witch; to dominate her but having felt her beneath him; having buried himself in her sheath had ensnared his senses. He wanted to satisfy her the way she craved; to make her _his _own. She had stirred something in him; something he desperately wished she hadn't. She, as Lily had done so very long ago, made him feel alive. For a lonely, miserable wizard who had spent the better part of his life coping with his freakishness; to be wanted, truly desired, was a concept more magical than Hogwarts itself.

"Stop …" he gulped, forcibly expelling the image of Lily and Hermione from his mind.

Snape looked down. He closed his eyes when he saw his engorged member pressing firmly against his trousers.

_It was a fling, a single act of penetration; a mistake - nothing more._

The wizard took a deep breath and willed himself into an unaroused state. Thankfully, he had the image of Olivia and Colby shagging in his storeroom to assist him with that much. After he was safely under control, he continued.

xxxxx

_Miss Granger,_

_As agreed, here are your things. Be advised that you are to report to me at eight o'clock tomorrow night as conditioned by your standing reprimand. Do not be late. We have much to discuss._

_Professor Severus Snape _

xxxxx

Snape folded the note several times and walked over to the hearth.

"Olivia!" he beckoned.

Poof!!!

"Sir," she greeted. "How may ---"

"I don't have time for chit-chat." He interrupted. "I need you to find Miss Granger before she finds me. Take those items to her and make sure she reads this note, understood?"

"Yes, Olivia gets it to her right away!"

"When you're finished, come back here. I have a job for you and Colby."

The elf grinned excitedly. She wasn't sure how her mate was going to feel about serving Snape but if he wanted his regular dose of nookie, he had better get used to the idea.

"Now, go!" he barked.

With that, Olivia disappeared into a cloud of magical smoke.


	38. Busted!

Hermione was in the library plucking through spell books when Olivia appeared. Without a wand, it seemed pointless to attend class so she decided to spend her time studying.

"Ahem … pardon me, Miss." Olivia interrupted, noting the witch's demeanor was less than starry.

"What?" She lazily replied, pulling another volume from the shelf.

"Olivia brings a message from the Professor!"

As if steered by some unknown force, Hermione slowly looked down. She didn't comprehend the elf's meaning. Professor who? Surely, she wasn't referring to the cruel ogre dwelling below. It was then she noticed the elf was carrying an arm full of clothes and a wand.

"The Potions Master asks Olivia to deliver this to you," she clarified.

The witch's mood shifted from glum to bitter in an instant. "Is that so?" she said, eagerly snatching the parchment from the elf's hand. This surprised Olivia a little. She'd always considered the Gryffindor a tad cheeky but never blatantly rude.

Hermione's eyes raced over the message. _Talk? He wants to talk? _She scoffed.

"I take it those are my things," she grumbled, tucking the letter into her robe.

Olivia observed the Gryffindor curiously then nodded. She gently laid the items at the witch's feet and eased back.

"Has you got a return message for Professor Snape?"

Hermione drew a breath. There were plenty of things she wanted to say to the Victorian wizard but nothing less than three rolls of parchment would do.

_Something ain't right,_ Olivia thought after noticing the witch's eyes seemed a little burned; like she'd been up all night and day crying.

"No," Hermione flatly replied, solemnly returning to her work.

The elf observed the Gryffindor for several more seconds. She couldn't explain it but Granger seemed different somehow. It was obvious something was very wrong but it wasn't her place to ask. Perhaps, she was suffering from hormones? She'd been warned by the Headmistress that young humans could be testy sometimes.

"Olivia understands. Good day," she said; vanishing into a cloud of gray smoke.

* * *

Severus tapped his quill impatiently. "So?" he pressed, glaring down at his helper.

Olivia belonged to Hogwarts but she had been assigned to him and never reassigned. For all intent and purposes, she was his elf and the only creature he halfway trusted. The jury was still out on Colby but as long as he kept his mouth shut, Severus could learn to tolerate him as Olivia's lover.

"Olivia gave the Granger girl her things and your letter, sir."

"Good," he replied, seemingly satisfied. "What of my other request?"

"Colby has agreed to help Olivia."

_With the promise of nookie every night for the next week …_ she devilishly thought but did not say.

The Potions Master waved the elf off. He had work to finish and books to research, starting with the History of Hogwarts. From what he could remember, the House stones were encased by the original founders. He'd never once heard of any peculiar activity but if there was a connection he would find it.

Seconds later, he felt something eyeing him. He looked down to find Olivia was still there.

"What?" He gruffly spat.

"Is the witch in bad trouble?" She asked.

Severus looked at the elf surprisingly.

"Why would you think that?"

"Well … she wasn't in class like she ought to be and she looked very sad. Mad too! But mostly sad."

The wizard took an uncomfortable breath. "I wouldn't know …," he answered. "I'm not the girl's keeper!"

"Oh," Olivia embarrassingly put forth. No he wasn't her keeper. They didn't even belong to the same House.

"Was there anything else?" He said sharply, noticing the elf seemed reluctant to leave.

"Why did you have Granger's clothes and wand?" She innocently continued.

Snape rolled his chair around very slowly. His face was so constricted that Olivia instinctively knew to move back. He looked as if he might explode.

"That is NONE of your concern but if you MUST know, Peeves stole them!" He snarled, barely able to contain his displeasure over the insinuation. "I was returning them!"

Olivia's eyes widened when the wizard rose from his seat. She hadn't meant to imply anything. She was merely curious. Of course, the Potions Master had no desire to harm the creature; he was just so taken back by the question that he couldn't help it. Discomfort over the guilt prompted him to stand.

"Olivia is sorry --- she just thought …," the elf frantically apologized. She did not think the wizard capable of hexing her but it was better to be safe than sorry. The last time she saw him so displeased, he obliterated several cauldrons.

"Olivia goes now!"

Poof!

In a blink, Olivia was gone; leaving Severus to stew in his own juices.

"Insolent ingrate …" he grumbled; clenching and unclenching his fists in a futile effort to control of his emotions.

KNOCK, KNOCK

The Professor looked blackly at his door.

_Who?_

He had no appointments scheduled.

KNOCK, KNOCK

"Come in!!" he spat, grumbling obscenities under his breath. He was in no mood for visitors.

Minerva entered the wizard's office with an air of supreme gusto. Severus couldn't be certain but she appeared to be wearing more eye makeup than the last time he saw her and her robes … when did she begin wearing garnet? Her gown was properly fitted but strangely uncommon for such a traditional witch. Most women her age wore time-honored black. Not only that, but she forsook her trademark pointed hat for a narrow, feathery bonnet. Pretty as it was, it was far too flippant for a Headmistress in his opinion.

"Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall. What may I do for you?" He graciously asked.

As with Dumbledore, the tenured Potions Master always received his superior with a courteous nod. Despite their longstanding association, he was a man of etiquette and recognized the witch's rank. Not to do so would reflect poorly on him. Though he was born a lowly half-blood, he considered himself a true British wizard in every sense of the conjuring.

"Hello, Severus. I just wanted to touch basis with you regarding Professor Torres's experiment tomorrow. Do you have any objections to the idea?"

"I have numerous objections but in light of your approval, I see no reason to voice them."

"Severus," the witch simpered. "I understand your reluctance but all the necessary precautions have been taken. I believe it will be an educational experience."

"Educational? What about prudent? Do you think it prudent to allow such dangerous creatures into the classroom … correction, into the school?! If one of those vampire bats should escape ---"

Minerva's smile faded.

"It is called Defence Against the Dark Arts for a reason, Severus! The children cannot learn about defending themselves against dark forces if they never encounter it, now can they?"

_Unbelievable …_thought the wizard, his eyes shrinking with uncertainty. He looked as if he was trying to discern whether or not the figure standing in front of him was actually McGonagall.

"I would have thought warring with the Dark Lord would have made the students experts by now! Isn't enough that we defeated him? Do we really need to introduce them to more of the same? Moreover, when did Hogwarts begin subscribing to such … such … irresponsible methods? The last time I heard such a justification, Igor Karkaroff was still alive!"

Actually, the Carrow siblings were the last to sport such opinions but Severus refused to compare his present employer to those insane ninnies.

"I didn't come down here to feud with you, Professor!" Minerva snapped, making special use of his title. "I only wanted to hear your ideas."

"Did you at least consult Dumbledore?" He stubbornly continued.

Snape's tone contained less fervor than before but it was obvious he did not approve of the Headmistress's decision.

"Why on earth would I do that? Albus is gone. All that remains of him is a portrait. As much as I cared for the man in life, I will not allow his memory to govern this school. I am in charge! And I say there is no harm in a small, controlled experiment. Torres is a computable instructor. She will protect the students," said the witch, shifting uncomfortably. "Moreover, you and I will be there to ensure everything runs smoothly."

Snape blinked back his surprise. Adrian Torres a trusted and computable instructor? Minerva barely knew the witch! And when did she start thinking of Albus as a benign memory instead of the great wizard she had always respected?

"Yes, of course …," Snape replied, wisely submitting to the Headmistress's authority. "I'm sure everything will go well. It's just … it is in my nature to question things. You know that."

The wizard's concession worked. Minerva seemed to relax almost immediately.

"Oh, now there, there … I understand your apprehension. I even share it but I will not allow fear of the unknown to hinder progress. This experiment will be a learning experience for the students. You'll see." She said, smiling a bit.

Snape gave a curt nod, still bowled over by the Headmistress's strange behavior.

"I will do my part to help as much as possible. Was there anything else you wished to discuss?"

"No, that was it. Will you be at dinner?" She asked. "I noticed you weren't at breakfast or lunch."

"No, I doubt it. I need to finish some things."

"Very well, I was just asking. Good day, Severus," said the witch amidst an elegant turn. "We will see you tomorrow!"

Speechless, Severus observed her retreat with misgivings. Once she was gone, he leaned wearily against his desk and exhaled a long breath. There could be no mistake. Something was afoot at Hogwarts and he was damn certain Adrian was at the center of it. He only hoped that Olivia and Colby would be able find what he needed without drawing too much attention. Caution was crucial at this juncture.

* * *

"Shhh!" Olivia hissed, reprimanding Colby for bumping into stack of magazines. Every noise, no matter how small, seemed magnified amidst their treachery.

"Colby is sorry but it's dark." He said, noting that Torres kept very few lanterns lit in her quarters.

"Professor says we is to find anything we can. Olivia don't expect he meant for us to be seen or heard!"

"We can get into bad trouble for this. You knows that, right?"

Olivia took a few more guided steps before turning back to her mate. "Olivia knows but the Professor won't let anything bad happen," she said bravely. "He protects Olivia!"

Colby rolled his huge glassy eyes. A human in favor of protecting a lowly elf? Yeah, right. Maybe he should have insisted on more than just nookie when Olivia asked for his help.

"And me? What about me?" He argued, suddenly catching onto the last half of her statement.

"You too," she said with less confidence than she intended.

"But you said he was mad at you?"

Olivia smiled uncomfortably. She knew the Potions Master would not stay mad at her forever. He had grown accustomed to her service and would likely forgive her. Still, if she wanted to get back into his good graces soon, she had to do a really good job on this assignment.

"Forgets what I told you. We is on a mission!"

The pair crept through Torres's study with the skill of two first years hard at work. They fumbled through several shelves, books and cabinets searching for anything that might shed some light on the Dark Arts teacher. Snape was very clear in his instruction; find something of use. He wanted to know more about the witch and any possible connections she might have. Neither knew what they were looking for but anything was better than nothing.

Colby was snooping through an old chest when he came across a photo hidden inside the panel. "Olivia, come look at this," he said.

Olivia hopped off the witch's desk and scurried across the room. "You found something?" She said excitedly.

"Colby doesn't know but it looks suspicious." He answered, examining the item carefully.

"Gives it here," said Olivia, snatching the picture from the surprised elf's hand.

The moving photo showed a younger and more impoverished, Adrian surrounded by dozens of wizards in a rebel tavern. Some of the men were reputable looking while others were clearly rogues. It was definitely a slum mixer where wealthy aristocrats socialized with seedy scoundrels for the sake of good times and shady dealings. Far in the background was a sign that blinked Black Brew Inn with a Spanish flag hanging overhead.

"It's her! Colby is sure of it. But who is all those men?"

Olivia studied the picture and saw an older witch, one who resembled Adrian greatly, busing tables nearby. She looked equally as miserable but unlike Torres, resolved in her duty.

"Maybe they is friends," said Olivia, turning the picture over to find a dedication on the back.

_To my beloved, Adrianna,_

_Forget me not on your road to success._

_Love, Mia_

_C. Torres_

"Did Colby do good?" He asked.

Smiling, Olivia leaned over and gave her mate a huge kiss on the cheek. "Colby did very good! The Professor will be pleased." She replied, confident they had found something valuable.

About that time, Colby heard what sound like a door open. "It's her!" He whispered.

"Yes, yes -- it's her." Olivia droned, praising the elf yet again.

"No, I mean it's really her. The Professor is back from dinner!"

Olivia glanced up in time to see two shadows growing on the wall.

"Quick, behind the couch!" said Olivia, snatching her beau by the arm.

The duo leaped behind the sofa. From there, they held their mouths and listened.

"Any word yet?" asked Goyle.

Olivia recognized the wizard's voice immediately. It was the Slytherin who threw her down the laundry chute! What was he doing in the Professor's quarters at this hour?

"No. In fact, I haven't heard anything from my Mistress in over a week. Then again, she is a very busy woman. I'm sure she will contact me when she is able. What of Malfoy? Is the brat keeping it together?"

"Yeah, he's doing okay but to be honest … he's been kind of distant lately; like he doesn't trust me or something."

"Really? Well then, you should make him trust you. Without him, I have no use for you," Adrian callously pointed out. "I can't be expected to do everything myself, you know!"

Goyle's eyes became as hard as diamonds. The nerve! If it wasn't for _his_ reports, the witch wouldn't know up from down. Not only that but it was _he_ who introduced Draco to her in the first place. If it wasn't for _him_, Malfoy would've dumped Adrian long ago! Simply put, she lacked the pedigree to consort with a pureblood of his standing.

"I'm doing the best that I can," he strained.

Adrian plopped onto the sofa and patted her perfectly arranged hair. "Yes," she said boringly. "But I have obligations. As per our agreement, you will need to do better if you want to continue getting your regular dose of _play_."

"Oh, I'll do better." He replied, devilishly waggling his brows.

The witch glared listlessly at her lover. He was becoming more of a problem than a help. The boy's sexual appetite was ravenous, not to mention inconvenient. There were many days when her mood did not match his libido. Oh, the blessings of youth.

"I'm really not in the mood, Gregory. Can't you just satisfy yourself? We were together just last night!"

Goyle smirked. "That was a payback bugger," he fondly reminded, taking a seductive seat next to his Spanish beauty. "I want to shag this time …"

The young man carefully reached under his lover's skirt and began making his way towards the prize. Thankfully, she seldom wore knickers which simplified matters. Just as he was preparing to manually ravage her hub, Adrian sat up.

"I TOLD you! I'm not in the mood!" She said, wrestling his hand away.

Goyle gently guided his partner back down and positioned himself on top. "Yes you are … you're always in the mood. That's why we get along so well," he murmured, kissing her neck for emphasis.

The Slytherin had strong feelings for the Professor. He even confessed them in their last encounter but she had yet to return the sentiment. He was certain she felt something but how much, he didn't know. For now, he would have to rely on his skills as a feverish lover to win her icy heart.

Adrian grudgingly resigned her objection and permitted the wizard to work his clumsy magic. He was sloppy and over eager but maybe his greediness was a good thing. With any luck, their time would be over soon and she could get some rest.

"Just hurry up," she sighed, spreading her legs unceremoniously. She knew how much the Slytherin enjoyed compliance; particularly if that obedience was accompanied by vulgarity.

Grinning triumphantly, Gregory slowly raised the witch's robe and unbuckled his trousers. He had no desire to hurry that night. She was going to get a firm filling whether she wanted it or not.

The sound of Gregory's belt buckle hitting the floor was enough to convince the pair hiding behind the couch to leave. Neither of them wanted to be present for the main event.

"Let's go!" mouthed Olivia, vanishing after.

Colby quickly followed.

Crouching down, Goyle positioned himself between his lover's thighs and aimed his thick device over her entrance. He was throbbing now; plenty hard enough for a long, rough ride. Nevertheless, he understood the importance of pleasing. It wasn't all about him. Adrian would take away something that night, if only a sore pussy.

"What are you waiting ---" She irritably began, pausing mid-sentence.

Adrian's eyes sprang to life when the young wizard rudely sank himself to the hilt. He ran so deep so fast that he struck Spanish gold on the first stroke.

* * *

**A/C:** I've been out of circulation for a minute but the time off has given me a fresh perspective on the story. The next couple of chapters may be rather long. Thanks for reading :)


	39. Winged Devils II

Snape sat up. "Goyle is doing what?! With who?!" he sputtered, running his fingers through his unwashed, unkempt hair.

"He and Professor Torres is humping," said Olivia. When Colby didn't speak, his mate elbowed his side; prompting him to nod. The elf reluctantly agreed.

The lovebirds spent hours arguing over whether or not to tell the Professor what they heard. Olivia's position was simple. As Slytherin's Head of House, Snape deserved to know. On the other hand, Colby took the age-old stance; Hogwarts business was none of elves business. Elves saw things. Lots of things but their policy had always been to keep their mouths shut and their heads down; do the job, nothing else.

Olivia finally convinced her mate that for their mission to be a success, they would have to tell Snape everything they saw. After all, that was the assignment; to gather information. And what could be more important to an elf than doing a good job?

Now angry, Snape snatched the covers off and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The shock of the scandal wasn't nearly as bad as the realization there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it since _he_ himself was in a comparable predicament. Had the wizard uncovered their amour a week ago, he would have reported Adrian without hesitation but now it seemed too risky.

"Have you mentioned this to anyone else?" he hoarsely grumbled, still groggy from being woken up.

"Nope! Olivia only tells the Professor."

"Good. Let's keep it that way."

Engaging a student wasn't an Azkaban worthy trespass, if the student was of age, but it was certainly grounds for dismissal. He would feel better about kicking Adrian out on her ear if he'd kept his own snake in his trousers. Still, the news wasn't completely useless. If what happened between him and Granger ever got back to Minerva, his indiscretion would pale next to Torres's indignity. More importantly, it's unlikely the Headmistress would not want to suffer two embarrassing sacks. Then again, Minerva was a Gryffindor. She might see the deflowerment of one of her own as a violation, ethically speaking.

_Mm. Goyle. Why him? _Severus wondered.

Gregory wasn't the pinnacle of intelligence nor was a key a player in the aristocratic realm. From a tactical standpoint, he couldn't see the advantage of such a relationship. At least ..., not for Torres. Gregory was a young man and like all young men, his mind was only on one thing. Snape assumed the witch was using him for something but he couldn't fathom what and frankly, sex seemed like an unlikely benefit. Goyle just didn't seem like the socialite's type.

"Was there anything else?" he asked, secretly grateful he had not banged the randy witch when he had a chance.

Olivia reached into her toga and pulled out a photo. "Colby found this," she proudly admitted. "Colby did very good!"

The elf smiled brightly. He really didn't give a flip about the human or his opinion. All that mattered was that his girlfriend was pleased.

Snape examined the picture closely. It depicted a youthful Adrian, perhaps eighteen or nineteen, toasting the camera with a sea of beaus. Though he recognized her charming face, she wasn't nearly as savvy looking. Time and knowledge had yet to befriend the Spanish beauty. Her secondhand robes and bleak smile told an unfortunate story, one that suggested she wasn't born to a refined life. In fact, she was surrounded by a number of unsavory characters; men that fell one grade or ten below the lofty witch. The few that didn't appeared to be slumming.

In the background, Severus noted an older witch cleaning tables. She resembled Adrian greatly in appearance but not attitude. Judging by her weathered face, she too was a victim of circumstance.

"Interesting …" he murmured, studying the sign that read 'Black Brew Inn'.

"Turn it over!" Olivia urged.

Snape flipped the photo over and read the inscription.

_To my beloved, Adrianna,_

_Forget me not on your road to success._

_Love, Mia_

_C. Torres_

_Mia??_

"Well, what does the Professor think?" Colby asked. His impatience earned him a stern look from Olivia.

"It will do," Snape flatly answered, setting the photo on the nightstand. "Good work."

Olivia beamed with pride.

"Now, I need to rest. I have an early meeting tomorrow. I will summon you if I require anything else." He said, crawling back under the covers.

"Oky dokie," his favorite elf replied. She was still glowing from the compliment.

"Say … is Colby going to get that hump Olivia promised?" her mate blurted, destroying Olivia's shine.

Appalled, Snape slammed his eyes shut and growled.

Olivia apologized with a laugh. "Good dreams," she nervously countered.

"Yes, yes --- good night," said the wizard, gruffly rolling away from the nauseating pair.

The couple quickly vanished.

Once alone, Severus closed his eyes and sighed. He wasn't sure how he was going to rid himself of that image but occulmens didn't apply to elf sex in the strictest sense of the meaning.

* * *

Snape entered the Great Hall around the same time Hagrid arrived through the rear door. He was carrying two enormous cages. Though the cages were veiled, the creatures seemed very agitated.

"Rowdy fellas," he commented to himself.

McGonagall was positioned next to Torres at the head of the room while the students, approximately sixty NEWTS (eighth and seventh years), organized themselves according to House at a nearby table. The center aisle was reserved for dueling.

Those assembled represented a conglomerate. Nearly everyone taking advanced D.A.D.A. that year was present. Of course, those not interested in participating received a special excuse from the Headmistress, reducing the lesson from mandatory to voluntary.

Adrian glanced over her shoulder and smiled at the Potions Master. He didn't return the gesture nor did he seem thrilled to be there but then, he wasn't the jubilant sort.

"Good morning, Professor Snape. Did you sleep well last night?" She asked, ignorant of the fact that Snape was aware of her activities and had no desire to 'play nice'.

Severus glanced at Goyle who was looking quite intently at Adrian. "Greetings, Professor. Yes. And you?" He asked in a mock-friendly tone. The wizard's genteelness caught the witch off guard.

"Yes, of course. Thank you for asking," the Spanish beauty replied.

Minerva turned and acknowledged Severus with a prim nod.

"Hello, Severus. The class will begin shortly. I think you and I should take point on opposite ends of the hall," she said, gesturing towards the main entrance. "Professor Torres, this is your lesson. We will do our best to stay out of the way but if something should go awry …"

"Nothing will go wrong, Headmistress. I chose the Great Hall because of the lighting. Sunlight calms the creatures. It will be like fighting sheep!" She assured.

"Funny, they don't seem very docile to me," said Snape, observing the lively coops apprehensively. "In fact, they sound a bit rabid."

Hagrid met the wizard's apprehension with a grim glare. He also felt the bats were unsafe, having spent the entire night checking and rechecking the cages's locks.

"That's because they are veiled. Once the shrouds are lifted, they will quiet down." Torres politely countered.

The answer seemed to satisfy the Headmistress but did nothing to appease the Potions Master. It was still a pointless and irresponsible activity. Winged Devils weren't even indigenous to Britain! So, why did Torres feel the need to teach the students anything beyond theory? If anyone was interested in pursuing the study, they could apply for an apprenticeship in Transylvania or Hungary after graduation.

Frowning, Severus took point at the entrance while the Headmistress backed the Dark Arts instructor. Professor Hagrid guarded the windows. He wasn't a skilled wandsman but he was large. If things got out of hand, he might be able to manhandle the creatures.

"Class, we're ready to begin." Torres announced. "I have selected a partner for each person ---"

"Wait --- we're not going to choose our own?" Ron broke, interrupting the instructor mid-sentence. He had planned to fight alongside Harry.

McGonagall chastised the disruptive Gryffindor with a scowl but Torres met his question with a smile. Did they honestly think it was going to be that easy?

"No, Mr. Weasley. In the real world, we aren't always accompanied by those we like or trust. You must learn the art of combat without the security of a friend assisting you at every turn. Though I am confident every person will perform to the best of their ability, the objective is not to depend on help. The partner system is just a precaution." She said meaningfully.

"Now class, you are facing a real threat inside a controlled environment. You and your partner will have five minutes to neutralize the problem. Please know that Professors McGonagall, Snape, Hagrid and I will be here to assist if needed but we will not intervene unless you lose control of the situation. Is that understood?"

The students nodded.

"Good. Mr. Malfoy, you and Mr. Potter will go first. Next will be Finnigan and Parkinson, Weasley and Goyle, so on and so forth."

Draco and Harry exchanged an uneasy glance.

"Everyone but Malfoy and Potter, please retire to the antechamber until I call your name. DO NOT enter the Great Hall until you have been called."

Weasley offered his pal a play punch to the shoulder for luck. He really wanted him as his partner but it looked as if he was going to be paired off with someone he didn't like. The seventh years rose from the table and exited the room while Malfoy and Potter made their way to the center of the Hall. In the background, Snape observed with great interest.

"Potter, don't screw this up," sneered the blonde wizard.

Harry rolled his eyes. Would Draco every change?

"Back at you, Malfoy."

The young men settled and readied their wands.

"On my count, I will release three devils. Again, you have five minutes to neutralize them. For everyone's sake, I hope you read the assignment and are prepared. They are very cunning and very fast," Torres warned. "As a special note, vampire bats are immune to the unforgivables."

A rush of uncertainty overcame the wizards. Neither of them remembered reading that but then, neither of them studied the chapter that closely.

"The stupid hippogriff could have mentioned that before," Draco quietly grumbled.

Brandishing his wand, Potter glanced at Malfoy. For once, he agreed with the pureblood.

Professor Torres removed the shroud from the cage. Inside were a dozen or more snarling bats the size of hawks. They each possessed blood red eyes, tipped wings and sharp gnashing teeth. For some reason, the devils seemed much larger and nastier than in the books.

"One … two …THREE!"

* * *

When Hermione arrived to Transfiguration, she found the class largely empty. Only a few students were present, sprinkled around the room according to preference.

"Good morning, Miss Granger." Sweetie warmly welcomed. "Please take a seat. We're going to be short of a few students today. There is some big who-ha in the Great Hall as I understand it."

"What's going on," yawned the witch, exhausted from an abundance of worry and a lack a sleep.

"Professor Torres is hosting a special lesson this morning."

Hermione sat down and took out her book. "What kind of lesson?" She curiously asked.

"You haven't heard?" Sweetie replied. "Everyone is talking about it."

Granger colored. She hated being out-of-the-know but very few of her friends had much to say to her in recent weeks. Even Harry had taken to giving her the cold shoulder after she bailed on detention Halloween night. Hermione couldn't blame him really. He and Ginny were attached at the hip and Ginny's Head Girl status had made her a bit of a rule-Nazi. It was also responsible for her a ballooned ego. She was now the 'it' girl, dating the 'it' boy and Ron was the 'it' brother and pal of both. Naturally, Lavender was enjoying the social boost as Ron's main squeeze.

"The Professor is introducing Winged Devils into her a defense instruction," Nicholas explained.

Hermione's eyes rounded. "You mean live vampire bats??!" She blurted.

"Cool, isn't it?" said Romilda from the back of the classroom.

The witch spun around.

"Cool? If it's so cool, why aren't you there? Aren't you taking D.A.D.A this year?"

Vane made a sardonic face. "Because my father disapproves, that's why." She answered, not caring for Granger's tone.

"Now, now ... we're not here to discuss what Dark Arts is doing," the old wizard disrupted. "We have our own studies to worry about."

"But Professor … vampire bats are dangerous and unpredictable! I can't believe the Headmistress would agree ---"

"Ah yes but she did, Miss Granger." He said, matching Hermione's concern with a meaningful wink. She wasn't sure what to make of the gesture but she was pretty sure her Head of House was in agreement.

"So, that is that! Onto to other business! Class, today we're going to practice elemental transfiguration; how to change wind into water and fire into earth. Wands ready everyone!"

* * *

Hermione exited Transfiguration with a long, worried face. Normally, she spent her free period in the library but not today. Today she headed straight for the Great Hall. She was much more interested in knowing how the special lesson was going than catching up on her assignments.

As she hurried down the stairwell, her mind raced with questions and condemnations. She couldn't believe the Headmistress would allow such dangerous creatures into Hogwarts. Dumbledore would've never agreed to such a thing!

When she reached the main corridor, Hermione was surprised to find it full of seventh years lingering about. Some looked stunned while others looked horrified. The curious bystander waded through the crowd until she found Harry resting soberly against the wall.

"Harry has something happened?" She asked, forgetting that they weren't on the best of terms.

"It's Goyle …," he said disturbingly. "He and Ron …"

A rush of panic overcame Hermione. "Ron? What about him?!" She spat.

Harry waved the witch down. "Ron is fine but Goyle has been bitten," he replied.

"Oh … bitten?"

"It was awful Hermione … just awful. I only got a glimpse of him after it happened but he was drenched in blood. It looked as if a huge chunk of his neck was ripped opened!"

"Is he …?" She gulped, cringing over the thought.

"Dead? No, not yet. Snape was able to slow the blood loss and patch the damage with a healing spell but no one knows if he will survive. There was so much blood! Professor Torres doesn't think he was infected but honestly, that's the least of Goyle's concerns."

_Professor Snape was there?_

"How … how, Harry?"

"I don't know. None of us do. We were told to wait in the antechamber. One minute everything was fine and the next, Ron and the others were screaming. A couple of us rushed inside to help but by then, McGonagall and Torres taken the bats down. Snape was already hovered over Goyle performing the healing spell when we arrived."

Hermione's mind helplessly drifted back to her brief encounter with the dark wizard. Despite appearances, he was a gifted individual who cared about the welfare of the students ... albeit, secretly. He probably saved Goyle's life, if there was anything left to save. However, he was a contrary wizard; capable of extreme cruelty as evident by his treatment of her after their heated exchange.

Snape was nothing short of a paradox.

"It was stupid to bring those things here!" She angrily chastised.

Potter nodded. Everyone was excited about the match, until Goyle got hurt.

"Yeah but it's too late to think about that now." He said solemnly. Harry wasn't a huge fan of the Slytherin but the horrific scene he witnessed transcended any rivalry or hard feelings he may have had.

"Where is Professor Snape now?" asked Hermione, trying to sound only moderatly concerned.

"He's in the infirmary. Hagrid sent word to St. Mungos. They're supposed to be sending medics to transport Goyle to the hospital. The Headmistress is going with him."

Hermione snorted.

"Look Mione, McGonagall feels just terrible about what happened. I can tell she blames herself. I mean … she was barely holding it together when they took him."

"I suppose you're right," she said forgivingly. "But still …"

Before Harry could respond, Ginny walked up.

"Hi, Hermione," she civilly greeted. "Come on, Harry. The Great Hall is closed until dinner. Professor Torres cancelled class and suggested that everyone return to their Houses. Lunch will be served there."

Suddenly, Hermione felt very self-conscious. Ginny didn't ask her if she wanted to walk with them so it was fair to assume she wasn't included in the invitation.

"Aren't you going back to the Tower?" the Head Girl turned and asked.

"Um …, not right this minute. I'd like to know more about what happened."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Hermione …," she loftily droned. "We were told to return to our Houses. That order applies to everyone."

Harry let out a timely cough. He agreed with his best girl but it didn't sound like Hermione was trying to snub the order.

"I realize that, _Ginny_ but I also have study hall. I'm sure that _suggestion_ doesn't apply to those who have destinations and studying to do." She cleverly countered.

Harry tried not to smile but Hermione had a point. Unless it was an emergency, lessons took precedence. It was a school after all. The smugness seemed to evaporate from Ginny's face.

"Fine," she irritably replied, taking Harry by the arm.

Hermione watched the couple trek up the stairwell and out of sight. After they were gone, she refocused her efforts on the rest of the group. She asked everyone who was willing to talk what happened and all their stories matched. No one knew anything because the only people who saw what happened were Goyle, Ron and the teachers. Well, Hermione was in no mood to confront Ron and she was pretty sure that Ron didn't want to be confronted. Not to mention, he was nowhere to be seen.

_He's probably in the infirmary,_ she thought.

One by one, the crowd thinned; each person going in their perspective directions. Hermione waited until the other students were gone before she snuck a peek inside the Great Hall.

"Ewe!"She gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

The scene told a gory story. Four elves were assigned to the mess on the floor, five to the tables and many more to the windows and walls.

"Merlin …" the witch said disbelievingly.

She quietly closed the door and turned back down the foyer. As she walked dolefully towards the stairwell, the thought occurred … _check the hourglasses._

Hermione made her way to the columns. She turned around to see if anyone was looking but the corridor was empty; eerily so after such a violent incident. Hermione noticed the portraits were awake this time but unreceptive. They seemed oblivious to her, as if they weren't the least bit interested in anything beyond their own painted world.

_That's weird …_ she thought. They were always sticking their collective noses in student affairs.

Hermione peered inside the first glass. The Hufflepuff stones were basically the same. There were a few added pieces here and there but for the most part, the gems looked normal. Hermione moved down to the second hourglass and found Ravenclaw in roughly the same condition.

_Could they have been damaged? _She wondered, thinking back on the samples she lost. She assumed she dropped them when she and the Professor ...

_Ugh, would you snap out of it already? It wasn't that great,_ the witch exasperated.

Sighing, Hermione drifted over to the Gryffindor chamber. She was alarmed to discover that it contained more discolored gems than Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw combined.

"I don't understand," she mumbled.

"Understand what?" a gruff voice asked.

Hermione turned around to find a small 8X10 portrait of a grungy old man, hanging lopsided in the corner. It wasn't a very prestigious spot, given the amount of blockage but it was slightly visible and very much aware.

"Who are you?" the witch blundered. She couldn't recall ever seeing this particular wizard.

"Who am I? Who are you?!"

"My name is, Hermione Granger. I'm a student here …"

"Well of course you're a student. Why else would you be here?" The old man spat. "What are you doing lurking about? Shouldn't you be in class or something?"

Offended by his audacity, Hermione jerked her chin and snorted. "What's it to you?" She answered.

"Watch your tone young lady! My name is, Freddy Fredrick."

"Say … why aren't you ignoring me like the other portraits?"

"Maybe that's because I'm not the hoity-toity type? The other canvases … well, they're all snobs," he sniffed.

Hermione couldn't help but smile a little. So, he wasn't good enough to rub oily elbows with the other paintings? She'd never heard of portrait aristocracy.

"Now, what's your business with those cases girl?"

"The stones … I was just," Hermione said, stopping short of a full sentence. "My name isn't girl. It's Hermione! And I was examining the gems. Some of them are badly discolored."

"It's probably just dirt you're seeing," Freddy explained. "The glass does get awfully dirty sometimes. Those shoddy servants don't clean it enough!"

"It's not dirt," the witch said, rolling her eyes. "They also glow."

"Glow?" he repeated. "Yes, now that you mention it. I have seen them do that a few times."

"You have? Really, when?"

"I've seen them every night since the start of the term. Bloody lights have been keeping awake!"

"Have you told anyone?" Hermione asked, moving closer to the 8X10 hanging.

"Child, no one listens to me. They didn't listen to me when I was alive. They're not going to listen to me now that I'm a piece of artwork. Sadly, that's the fate of all paintings."

"I see …"

The old man shifted uncomfortably. He wasn't interested in the witch's pity.

"Now that you mention it … I have noticed a few strange happenings around here. Granted, it's hard for me to see much in this corner but I've notice the other paintings have been sleeping on the job! They're also not as chatty. Odd really … paintings live for gossip!"

Hermione tried to appear interested but in truth, she wasn't terribly concerned about the social lives of canvases. So what if they weren't talking? It's like Freddy said, no one ever listened to them anyway.

Hermione strayed away from her namesake's glass and towards the Slytherin chamber. So far, it had the least amount of discolored pieces.

"I just don't get it," she said, resting against the hutch.

Exhaling a breath, Hermione removed Snape's letter and opened it. His cramped writing was a comfort and the reason she'd read the message so many times. It was familiar and safe, a small reminder that something was still right in her world; or so she thought until the memory of his last words poisoned her disposition once again.

_A complete troll …_

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione quickly folded the note and placed it back into her robe. "Yes," she replied, turning around. She'd barely made a complete turn when she stopped.

"Shouldn't you be in your dormitory?" Torres asked.

"I have study hall."

"Then shouldn't you be there?"

Hermione glared at the pretty witch for several seconds.

"I was on my way but I stopped to chat with Freddy."

Hearing this, the old man in the portrait sounded off.

"Freddy? Freddy who?" asked Adrian, not believing the Gryffindor.

"Freddy Fredrick," Hermione lamely replied, gesturing towards the 8X10 hanging in the corner. Freddy was sitting in the shadows giving the Gryffindor the evil eye.

Adrian peeked around the corner and spotted the lopsided portrait. She didn't recognize the old man, nor did she know that anyone occupied that panel.

"I see," she said curiously. "This painting must be new."

"Does anything about me look new to you??" Freddy blasted. "Lady, I have dust bunnies older than you! And while we're on the subject of not recognizing people, who the hell are you?"

Adrian frowned. "I am a _Professor_ at this school," she hissed.

"Funny … you don't look or sound British."

"That's because I am Spanish, if it's any concern of yours!"

"Tell me little girl," Freddy said, looking towards Granger. "Has Hogwarts deteriorated so much that it must resort to hiring foreigners now?"

Hermione resisted the urge to laugh but it was easy to see she was amused.

"Miss Granger, leave now." Adrian ordered, ignoring the 8X10 hanging. "Students are not allowed inside the Great Hall until ---"

"Until the elves clean up the mess you made?" Hermione shot back.

The Professor's face became unfathomable. "I made?" She replied.

"Yes. It was your idea to bring vampire bats into the school, wasn't it?"

Adrian met the Gryffindor's eyes with a type of satisfaction that Hermione found disturbingly cold.

"Yes. And my lesson would been a huge success, if Gregory Goyle hadn't botched the assignment." the witch sneered, paralyzing Hermione from the neck up. "Oh, well. Causalities are unfortunate but unavoidable sometimes."

Torres relished the Gryffindor's astonishment before rendering a second, less powerful blow. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for not obeying me and another ten points for your cheek," Adrian pleasingly added. "Now, go!"

"I am going to – report – you," growled Hermione, darting pass the Dark Arts teacher. "You shouldn't be allowed within 100 miles of a classroom!"

The horrified witch fled down the corridor, unaware that Adrian was smiling after her. Minutes later, her smile withered.

"Now as for you," she hissed, turning on the boorish 8X10. "We should _talk_."

Freddy hid his nervousness with a smile. "Now come, come … I was only teasing," he put forth.


	40. Small Truths, Bigger Pictures

Torres removed her wand and slowly aimed it at the cheeky portrait.

"Well, what are waiting for??" Freddy spat.

"I thought I took care of all you pesky little buggers but apparently, I missed one. No matter. INCEND---"

"Stop!!" cried Nicholas.

Adrian spun around and stepped back. "Professor … I didn't see you there --- where did you …?" She asked, seemingly alarmed.

The old wizard locked eyes with the confused witch and traipsed up. Though he always portrayed an air of gentleness, his glare was uncharacteristically fierce.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I was …," the witch paused.

"She was trying to kill me!" Freddy interjected.

"May I ask why? This portrait belongs to the school. Surely, you know that," Nicholas chastised.

Embarrassed and unexplainably nervous, Adrian struggled for an answer. "This _portrait_ is exceedingly rude! My intention was to teach him a lesson. Of course, I would never dream of defiling school property." She reasoned, placing her hand over her heart for the purpose of invoking sincerity. "I only wished to frighten him a little."

The transfiguration teacher held the witch's gaze. Despite his uncommonly kind nature, he was no simpleton and could sniff out a lie at a hundred paces. Still, he had no objection to playing the part as it's been said. In a show of confidence, the old man relinquished his hold and smiled.

"Ah yes, well Freddy can be a tad … overzealous at times but once you get to know him, he's the quite the kitten."

"Am not!" the 8X10 protested.

"You know this painting?" Adrian suspiciously asked.

"Know him? I placed him here weeks ago, as a gift to the school."

"You put him there," she sneered, before realizing her faux pas. She hadn't meant to sound so harsh. "Wherever did you find such … an interesting painting?"

"Freddy and I are old friends." Sweetie said simply. He had no desire to bait the witch's hook.

"Oh … well then, I suppose an apology is in order. I had no idea he was a friend of an esteemed colleague."

"Esteemed?" the wizard laughed. "I never knew you thought so highly of me; how kind of you."

Adrian snapped one last glanced at the bad tempered man. Her interest was quickly rewarded with a ninny-face and tongue.

"If you'll excuse me, Professor …" she strained, resisting the urge to hex the miserable coot. "There was a serious accident involving a student this morning. I must help the Headmistress make preparations for his departure."

"Mm, curious … his departure or hers?" asked Nicholas, his focus set to rights.

The question took the Spanish beauty by storm.

"I beg your pardon??"

"Oh nothing, nothing. I heard about what happened; dreadful, simply dreadful. Do go and give my best to the young man. Please tell him that all of Gryffindor wishes him a speedy recovery and I will be by to see him very soon."

"Why ever would you do that? You're not his Head of House?"

The old wizard chuckled.

"It's just my nature," he answered. "Now, please hurry along. They need you upstairs."

Adrian observed her colleague uneasily. "Good day, Professor …" she bided, retreating at a calm but swift pace.

Nicholas waited until the witch was gone before turning to the 8X10 hanging.

"You timed that perfectly," it said. "But had you been off by a millisecond ---"

"You would have suffered an ill fate," Nick kindly interrupted. "But it wouldn't be the first time, now would it?"

"No, I suppose not. Thanks by the way."

"You're welcome. Did you do as I asked?"

"Yes, of course but I honestly don't see how it's going to help. And if I may be so bold, why am I doing this again?"

"Because you are brave, trustworthy and loyal and because I asked you too."

"Oh, right …" the portrait remembered. "What now?"

"You're coming with me," Sweetie answered, removing the painting from the wall. "I fear it's not safe for you anymore."

"You know …" the 8x10 began. "It would be easier if you just unleashed me. I could have this whole mess sorted out within an hour."

"My dear Gabriel, it is not for us to decide. The mission is Severus's. Do try and consider the bigger picture here," he laughed.

Heaven's crankiest Archangel rolled his eyes. He dearly hoped whoever invented the word 'pun' was rotting somewhere in purgatory.

* * *

Snape retired to his quarters after cancelling his fifth and sixth year classes. He had just returned from the infirmary where he spent two hours explaining to hospital officials what happened. McGonagall, Torres and Hagrid were also asked for a deposition. Though the officials never said anything, it was easy to see they were a bit appalled that Hogwarts would allow such dangerous creatures into the school.

Once stabilized, Goyle was transported to the intensive care unit of St. Mungos Hospital where he would receive special treatment. The Headmistress accompanied the medics despite protests from security. She desperately wanted to speak to Goyle's family in person and explain what happened. Frankly, Snape was relieved not to have to do it himself. As the Head of Slytherin, it was his responsibility to contact the family in the event of an emergency.

After helping himself to a swig of green ale, Severus withdrew to the lavatory. He was exhausted; so tired that showering felt like an immense chore but he needed one.

Standing in front of the mirror, he slowly scaled down his heavily buttoned robe. He couldn't believe so much had gone wrong. As skilled as he and Minerva were, neither of them were able to get to Goyle in time. That deplorable excuse for witch, Adrian, didn't even try. She focused all her efforts on protecting, Weasley. In hindsight, it was the logical thing to do but still ... she and Goyle were lovers, were they not? Even after the bats were subdued, she stood idly by and watched!

"Treacherous whore ..." he croaked, realizing that Goyle's blood had seeped through onto his shirt. The thought of the Slytherin dying pulled at his heart strings despite his best efforts.

Frustrated, the wizard cast his waistcoat aside and untied his cravat. He made short work of removing his shoes, trousers and shorts. Once undressed, Severus stepped into the bay and turned on the water. He wasn't much for bathing in the middle of the day but a cleansing charm just wasn't going to cut this time. Despite his slippery locks, the wizard wasn't unclean; just the opposite in fact, but for some reason he felt soiled.

Snape pressed his lean body against the wall and relaxed. For a brief moment, he allowed the scorching hot water and steam to soothe his rabid mind.

* * *

"_Ah!! Ah!! It burns! Get it off me!"_

"_Cover yourself!!" Snape yelled, charging forward._

_*screams*_

"_Severus! Look out!" Minerva cried._

_*blast, blast*_

_Goyle fell to his knees as he tried to pry the wild creature from his neck. From a short distance, Snape could see that he was losing the fight and a lot of blood. The bat was chewing through his flesh, trying to dig deeper._

"_I'm coming!" _

_*screams*_

_Minerva, Weasley and Adrian managed the other devils as Snape rushed to boy's aide. He couldn't risk blasting the bat for fear of injuring Gregory._

"_Minerva! Knife!" he bellowed._

_The former transfiguration teacher responded quickly. She aimed for the table centerpiece, transforming it into a very large blade. Snape grabbed the knife and plunged it into the squalling creature's neck._

"_Get … it … off …" Gregory coughed, now suffering from blood loss. He was beginning to pale._

_After several more stabs, Snape removed the dead bat and placed his arm under the dying Slytherin's neck. "Shhh, I have you," he whispered, before initiating the spell that would keep him from bleeding to death right then._

_Moments later, Potter and his friends rushed inside._

* * *

Severus lifted his heavy lids and resumed his shower. "What's done is done," he said, both angry and frustrated.

He despised waste and risking one's life over such a trivial pursuit of knowledge was a terrible waste; voluntary or not. Severus wanted to rip Adrian's head off for suggesting such an outrageous idea but truth be known, he powerless to say or do anything. She received full authorization prior to the demonstration. Still, if Goyle died; as misled as the boy may have been for becoming involved with such a wench, Snape would have his revenge. She could bank on it.

* * *

Hermione arrived at Snape's office just before supper. She overheard some of the other students say that he'd cancelled his afternoon classes. Everyone who had Potions that day was overjoyed until they heard the news about Goyle. Then the cancellation made sense. Still, it was unlike the blowhard to skip sessions for any reason.

KNOCK, KNOCK

Severus glanced at the clock. He wasn't expecting anyone until eight and specifically told his students he did not want to be disturbed.

KNOCK, KNOCK

"Who the hell is it?!" he barked, hoping his ill-tone might frighten the nuisance away.

Hermione scoffed.

"It's Granger," she shouted through the panel.

The wizard's heart stood still.

_Hermione?_

Severus fastened his robe and moved swiftly to the door. He slowly opened it to find the Gryffindor scowling from behind several wisps of coarse curls.

"May I come in?" she asked tersely.

"I wasn't expecting you until later. What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you. I would've have gone to the Headmistress but she's not in her office."

"No, of course not --- she accompanied Goyle to St. Mungos. Are you not aware of what happened?"

Hermione softened a bit. "Yes … I'm sorry. I hope Gregory pulls through," she said sincerely.

Snape snorted. He wasn't a big fan of the discriminatory nature of Gryffindors. He didn't trust it. They had a habit of hand selecting people to pity while claiming to be 'all for one'. More than likely, the only reason she felt any sympathy was because the whole school was fussing over the incident.

"I'm busy. Come back at the designated time," he replied, closing the door.

Hermione quickly stuck her foot in the crack. Snape met her impudence with a frown.

"You said you wanted to talk. I'm here to listen. I also want to discuss something with you. It's important. Please don't knut and sickle me over the time!"

"Remove your foot!" He snapped.

The witch matched the wizard's scowl. She wasn't budging. Not until she got an audience. What's the worse he could do? The Headmistress was away from Hogwarts and her Head of House was busy. Moreover, she already had a standing-detention with the git and more point deductions than all of Gryffindor combined.

"Not until you hear me out," she said testily.

About that time, Hermione noticed what the Potions Master was wearing. Snape caught the flicker of surprise in her eyes and sighed.

"My clothes are being laundered." He gruffly explained.

_Do you only have one set of robes? _She silently replied, a hint of a smile betraying her thoughts. The shabby black robe looked about twenty years old and the gray shirt underneath was a thin, mock version of his day wear. It seemed Snape had a button fetish.

The witch's amusement over his attire irritated Severus. He was sensitive to ridicule, imaginary or not.

"Fine --- come in," he growled, retreating from the door in haste. "Sit down. I'll be back in a moment."

Smirking, Hermione walked inside and closed the door. She took an uneasy seat in the rickety chair in front of his desk and waited.

Snape fled to his quarters and hurried to his closet. He didn't have many outfits, one Quidditch uniform and one slightly dressier uniform for special occasions. To the untrained eye, his dress robes looked very much like his day garb but they fit differently and were made of spun cotton, not wool.

"These will have to do," he said undressing.

Minutes later, Snape returned in all his stark glory. Hermione felt a small, unexplainable pang in her stomach. Perhaps, she shouldn't have reacted the way she did. Somehow, the wizard was less intimidating in his shoddy clothes.

"What did you want to discuss?" he coolly inquired, seating himself behind the desk.

"Ahem …," she nervously began. "I think we should start with your request … you said you wanted to talk to me?"

_Turning the tables are we? _

Snape was nervous too but it didn't show. He wouldn't allow his weakness of will to bleed through his silver plated armor. Too much of that had already taken place.

"Yes, Miss Granger. It would be best if we … cleared the air," he affirmed, unconsciously making an effort to tidy his organized desk. "What happened the other night … it was wrong, very wrong. I am your teacher. Not your friend; not your confident, not your … your …"

"Lover?" the witch finished.

The interruption earned her a shocked, albeit, tempered glance from Snape.

"Especially that," he said thickly, clearly embarrassed by her candor. "It was a mistake! A horrible mistake --- for that, I am … _sorry_."

Hermione shifted uneasily; partly because her chair was so uncomfortable and partly because of the discussion. It was grounded in the realm of weird. She never imagined she would ever hear the words 'I'm sorry' trickle out Snape's mouth, particularly over something like this.

An awkward silence befell the room. Snape waited on pins and needles for the witch's response. He wondered if she was doing it purposely, torching him for his misdeeds. Should he just oblivate her and save himself the humiliation and worry of having to deal with a potentially loose cannon or should he aim for some kind of resolution? He always considered Granger a mature witch, even as a child so she might accept his apology … or perhaps, she'd fly off the handle like most twits and blast him for his indiscretion. He wasn't sure if he could take that right now. Not after the day he had.

"Well?" he pressed.

"Well, what?" she shot back, still uncertain of her feelings. He had treated her so cruelly.

"Do you accept my apology, you daft …" the Potions Master said irritably, pausing mid-sentence.

Instantly, the scorned witch from days past returned.

"Daft?! Daft?" She spat.

Severus drew a breath. "I didn't mean ---" he tried.

"I know what you meant you miserable, greasy git!"

Under normal circumstances, this would have infuriated the wizard but after considering the facts, Snape looked helplessly at his accuser. Yes, he was a miserable git; her point? Still, he took offense to the part about his hygiene. He knew perfectly well that people saw him as a greasy git, but years of being stuck with that horrid nickname hadn't softened the blow.

"I know what happened was a mistake and to be honest, I'm not sure what came over me --- us!" She corrected. "But you now have something I can never have back and all you can do is press me for acceptance??"

Hermione rose from her seat.

"Yes, I know. Your _virginity_," he softly murmured. "Please, Miss Granger …"

"Yes, my virginity! But that's not all. Are you so clueless that you don't know?!"

Severus looked absolutely baffled. _What else could it be?_ He thought.

"Please sit down," he kindly gestured, not wishing to enrage the witch any further. The tenured Professor had no experience dealing with young females beyond intimidation. He was on unfamiliar ground; out of element, so to speak.

"Mistake or not, you …," she painfully began. "You sullied my moment … you made it more than a mistake --- you didn't just take my virginity. Any idiot with a hard on could do that! You made me feel …"

Hermione's eyes fillled with tears as she struggled to swallow the rock in her throat. The wizard's words were haunting, even now. He had no right to strip her of her dignity.

"You made me feel … _cheap_," she scarcely finished.

_Cheap?_ Severus thought disbelievingly.

Hermione retook her seat and stared intently at the hourglass on his desk. She was unwilling to look the stunned Potions Master in the face.

"You're an_ arse_," she whispered, drawing on her reserve. She was still angry but her sadness had gotten the best of her.

Snape fumbled through his desk for a handkerchief. He soon found one stuffed in his bottom drawer.

"Take this … please," he replied, passing the cloth forward. He had no desire to chastise the witch for the 'arse' comment. She was right after all.

Hermione accepted the handkerchief with a frown. "Thank you," she said, yanking it out of his hand.

Severus balked when the witch blew her nose. She was considerably loud. And to think, he was the source of her distress. Why was he so clumsy with women?

"Miss ... Hermione," he gently corrected. "I am ---"

"Sorry, yes I know. You said that already." She interrupted.

"No. I don't think you do know," he staunchly countered. "I acted irresponsibly … I lost control … and the worse part is, I can't explain why! I don't understand why either of us did what we did. All I know is that if you had the choice, I would not have been your first!"

Sniffing, Hermione glanced at the wizard. She did not respond.

Setting his sense of propriety aside, Severus stood and eased himself around the desk. Normally, he reserved this level of attention for his Slytherins but Hermione was a unique case. She required a delicate hand. Had he exercised more tact from the start, he wouldn't be faced with this dilemma now.

"I deeply regret making you feel … _cheap_," he muttered, detesting the very sound of the word. "I was in a difficult position. I have done many things that I regret and by that, I mean a lot of horrible things but I have ... ahem, I would _never_ abused my position as a teacher."

Right then, a look of absurdity overcame the Gryffindor.

"Correction," he said loftily. "I've never abused my position in 'that' way. Despite the general consensus over my personality, I would never take advantage of a woman; especially, a student. Ever! There is _no_ apology I can offer that would adequately make up for what happened but I am truly sorry. You must believe me."

Another awkward moment befell the pair. Neither knew what to say. They were both at fault and yet, they were both innocent.

Hermione looked to and from the apologetic wizard. She believed him. She wasn't sure why she believed him but she did. Maybe because he seemed so unsure of himself. He reminded her of a wounded animal, vulnerable and gentle, as if his life hung in the balance. He was also waiting on something. A last minute reprieve from some unknown force, perhaps?

Clearing her throat, Hermione wiped her nose and offered Snape his handkerchief back. He stiffly refused.

"Keep it," he told her.

"I guess this makes us even, doesn't it?" She sniffed, jokingly referring to the night of the Masquerade.

Snape's brow shot up. "Hardly," he solemnly replied.

"So ... you don't know why you ... ahem, you know."

Severus nodded and slowly returned to his seat. It would be many years before Hermione would look back on that moment and see the man and not the Professor but when she did, she would see a very different wizard. She had accepted his apology which was a small triumph in his world of lifelong regrets and unaccepted apologies.

"Yes," he replied. "I think we were being manipulated by something."

Hermione sat up.

"What?"

"Miss Granger may I interest you in a cup of tea?" he said cordially. "We have much to discuss."

**

* * *

**

**A/C: **Thanks so much for the reviews! I've enjoyed reading them all. Yes, I had to do it. I had to reveal Nicholas's purpose at last. However, I'm pretty sure no one predicted Gabriel's brief return :) It is important for readers not to lose sight of the story. Though I've lost a few fans along the way, due to sprinkles of PG-15 smut, I do hope most will find this story entertaining. Once again, my intention is not offend but in the fiction world, anything is possible.

**A/C 2: **The 'cheap' comment was based on the last thing Severus said to Hermione, "Then you think as little of me as you do yourself ..."

Hermione didn't really define the feeling until their talk but it felt like he was telling her that she wasted her gift for nothing; that she was nothing b/c of it. It all boils down to Severus feeling unworthy. Still, the decision to have sex with him was Hermione's and I will go into that later on in the story. If you look at if from SS's point of view, he really didn't internalize his choice in words until Hermione said something. He was looking at the bigger picture and not the small truth. That's why he had a little trouble getting around the word 'cheap'.


	41. Tea Anyone?

Adrian stormed into her office and slammed the door. _What the hell happened?!_ She raged, upset over the fact that nothing had gone accordingly.

As soon as she arrived, she found the bat cages sitting atop her desk. They were veiled and calm. Hagrid had designs on terminating the creatures but Arian intervened, citing that they were a loan from the research Vat in Transylvania.

_"But Po'fessor, thay are dangerous! Think a'bout what thay did to tha boy!"_

_"Rubeus, dear, I know how you feel but they don't belong to Hogwarts. We must return them to the Vat --- all of them," she stressed._

Hagridwasn't the vengeful sort. In fact, he loved magical creatures but he had no objection to destroying something as destructive as a Winged Devil. They were evil! Pure evil! No one, not even the warmhearted half-giant, regarded them as anything more than diseased cannibals.

_"Well …, I reckon if thay're a loan …" the half-giant sourly agreed. "Wut do ya recommend I do wit em'? Thay are too dangerous to leave a'bout!"_

_"I'll watch over them tonight. Then I'll ship them back in the morning." She said amicably._

_Hagrid considered the idea for a long moment. "Well, if yar sure …," he hesitated. "But I ain't gonna leave a'bout! I'll take em' to yar office."_

_"That will be fine."_

Torres slowly approached the coops and removed the veiling. She grimaced in abhorrence when the bats awoke and began to shriek.

"Stuptify!" she hissed, quickly bathing the creatures in a burst of red magic.

Instantly, the bats stopped moving and fell over.

"Menacing things," she mumbled.

Adrian opened the coops and removed two devils. She gently laid the creatures on the floor and readied her wand. For a second, she considered slitting their throats and allowing them to bleed to death but transfigured or not, their demise would register in the hall of records.

"Ennervate," she whispered, returning the devils to life.

Immediately, they changed form; morphing into Lady Karkaroff and Leon Burkes.

"Well it's about bloody time!" Leon complained; glancing around Adrian's office like he smelled something foul.

_Someone needs to fire their decorator ..._ he thought, repulsed by the out-dated furnishings and bronze tapestry. It was a bit too '16th century' for his modern palette.

_It's no Durmstrang …_

Torres observed the young wizard with an unremarkable glance. Burkes was the son of wealthy store owner and a notorious brat. As Lady Karkaroff's lover, and heir to a small fortune, he could afford to be rude. However, it was important that she remain gentile, if only to appease her mistress. Secretly, she took great pleasure in the fact that Burkeswas the old hen's boy toy. She could only imagine the horrible depth he had to stoop to keep her satisfied.

"Good evening, my Lady," Adrian bowed, purposely omitting the wizard in her greeting.

Rosa turned to her companion.

"Leon, sweetheart, go fetch us a cup of tea."

"Tea? It's her office --- shouldn't she be the one _fetching tea_?" he replied.

The volatile matron answered his question with a scowl, forcing the wizard to twitch involuntarily. The last time he questioned her orders he found himself bent over her desk, trousers down; faced with a humiliating choice, strap-on or troll size cucumber?

"Tea … sure, I'll get it." He conceded, glancing harshly at the slut-witch smirking.

"You'll find what you need in my study," Adrian gleefully offered.

Torres waited until Burkes was gone before she spoke. "I apologize for the wait but I didn't realize you were traveling … _incognito_ until I got a good look at you. Why didn't you contact your associate?" She asked, hoping the witch might reveal how she got in the last time.

"Two reasons, my dear Adrianna. First, I employ my contacts sparingly and second, I wished to be present … in case something went wrong. However, I must admit ... everything worked out beautifully. I am very pleased."

"Beautifully?" the witch said horrified. "I'm confused … you planned the attack on Goyle? I thought it was Snape you were after?"

Rosa clicked her teeth annoyingly.

"You assume too much. I said no such thing. Snape is far too valuable! Think girl, think! Goylewas becoming a liability. He was getting in the way with his bouts of jealously and continuous demands. To be honest, I'm a little shocked you didn't get rid of him yourself!"

"I … I didn't want rouse suspicion," said the witch, somewhat befuddled. "Wait … why wasn't I informed of your plans? I could have …"

"I didn't trust you to end it cleanly. I warned you but you wouldn't listen! You had to go and spread your legs for that … that … troublesome boy! Really, Adrian, he was a horrible choice," she sneered, pausing briefly. "Oh, well. It's of no consequence now. I've taken care of the problem … or rather Confucius did before that traitor killed him! Speaking of, I am terribly disappointed in your progress. Snape should be eating out of your hand by now."

"Yes, I know … but it's been difficult, my Lady ... he doesn't trust me." She explained.

"Humph! You're always coming up with excuses! Well, I refuse to let you screw this up. I don't know what my dear, departed brother ever saw in you but it's quite obvious that he was thinking with the wrong head! He pulled you out of the gutter and gave you everything a woman of your standing could ever hope to have and this is how you honor his memory, with failure?"

Adrian's eyes blistered under the weight of her anger. Igor was anything but noble! She spent numerous mornings piecing her face back together after one of her so-called 'failings'. Yes, he bought her expensive gifts, took her to exotic places and paraded her around like a true aristocrat but everyone knew. Everyone knew she was _his_ Lolita and personal piñata.

"It is time I took matters into my own hands."

Adrian stepped forward.

"I don't understand."

"I need Snape's memories!"

"My lady, the plan was …"

"Plans change! Your cat and mouse game isn't working! You assured me that you would be able to seduce that … that TRAITOR inside of a month and it's already well into November! Malfoy will be leaving soon to collect his father at which time I will have his family's support but it's not enough. I need to know where the Dark Lord hid it! I must command his legions."

"And you will, you will but please, allow me to finish. No one at Hogwarts will be able to resist if you allow the opiate to complete its course. They're already falling … I can see it."

The matron curled her lip in disgust.

"Do you think I want those ninnies on my side? They're weak. Mudbloodsand blood traitors, all of them! Useless! Absolutely, useless! The only reason I gave you that charm was to pave the way for transition, divide and conquer! That's it! I have no desire to recruit anyone!"

"Consider this, my lady. The students are disposable. If you had them, you wouldn't need to risk your own regime."

Adrian felt if Goyle could be sacrificed so easily, why not them? Lady Karkarofffound the proposal interesting, maybe a little tempting but she barely acknowledged it with a sideways glance.

"Presently, McGonagall is at St. Mungos," she put forth, changing the subject. "I have ordered her capture upon leaving at which time I will …"

"You're going to infiltrate the school?" Torres deduced. "But … but the charm is beginning to work! I had the Headmistress right where I wanted her --- and Snape … well, I can get his memories for you!"

Adrian felt her stomach knot. The assignment was 5000 galleons for Snape's secrets. Everything was gone, squandered away on expensive clothes and bad debt. If she couldn't deliver the wizard, she would find herself in far worse shape than Goyle.

"I'm tired of waiting! I must strike while the Ministry is still weak …while it is still recovering! I need the Dark Lord's trove and the only person who can get it for me is Snape!"

"Snape is a renowned Occlumens," Adrian countered. "The information you seek can't be taken by force!"

Rosa met the challenge with a smirk. There was more than one way to skin a cat. She would get the information she needed and afterwards, dispose of the social climbing whore.

"We'll see," she said calmly.

About that time, Leon returned with three cups of piping hot tea.

"To new beginnings?" Lady Karkaroff toasted.

"To new beginnings," Leon chimed, faking a smile. He knew Torres was on the verge of becoming blacklisted and he loved it.

_I bet she's spent the money _… he wagered, discreetly admiring the beauty's curves over his cup. He couldn't wait to torture the snotty want-to-be to death, amongst other things.

* * *

"Thank you," said Hermione, shyly accepting the Professor's tea. She was still a little weary from the emotional rush and welcomed a change in topic.

Snapesat his desk and mulled over his papers for a few minutes. He wasn't avoiding the witch, just allowing her time to become adjusted. Although they had 'cleared' the air somewhat, the wizard was still plagued with guilt and decided a bit of gentlemanly conduct was in order.

_Cheap …_ he thought, still snowballed by Granger's interpretation of his treatment.

"So, what did you mean by manipulated? Who is manipulating us?" She asked.

Severus folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. _Who indeed_, he thought.

"I didn't say who. I believe _something_ is manipulating us; however, it's reasonable to assume whatever it is has a master lingering about," he answered.

Snape reached into his desk and pulled out four stones, the same stones Hermione had stolen earlier that week. A look of panic flashed in the witch's eyes but to her credit, she did not speak.

Severus set the lifeless pieces on his desk. "Do these belong to you?" He asked; his tone laced with silky implication. He knew full and well Hermione dropped them during their _encounter_. Prior to that, Peeves saw her with them.

_Merlin's balls!!_

"I don't understand," Hermione nervously replied.

"You _lost _these the other night," Snape clarified. "Do mind explaining how they came to be in your possession?"

"So, you think the stones had something to do with what happened?" Hermione maneuvered.

The Professor's face became dull.

"Yes, I do. Answer my question, Miss Granger."

"Ahem … I … um, well … as you may remember …"

"Stop stalling."

Stalling?

Hermione glared down into her tea cup. There was no sense in lying. The wizard already knew they belonged to her. She was busted.

"I took them," she admitted, glancing to and from the scowling man.

More out habit than feeling, Snape's nostrils flared which reduced the witch to a cringe. He was capable of behaving very nastily when the mood struck and right now, there was no telling what he was going to say or do.

_Once a thief, always a thief … _he privately concluded, referring back to the witch's second year.

Though the Professor in him wanted to scold her, the Slytherin in him applauded her accomplishment. House gems were protected by a very old spell; one that had never been comprised until now.

'How?' he mouthed.

"I reconfigured a basic transfiguration spell and altered the hutch's matter. I considered trying something similar in class once ... you know, for extra credit? But I worried that it wouldn't receive the recognition it deserved. Some might see it as a useless adaptation. Why would anyone want to distort matter? Space and time, yes but ---"

The witch's academic fire was suddenly extinguished with a spare-me-please glance from the Potions Master.

_Fine,_ she thought.

"Anyway … the spell tricked the original charm into believing it was no longer protecting the original case. As long as the hourglass was distorted the pieces inside could be removed. BUT I only took one! One of each! That was it!"

Severus resisted the urge to grin. _A distortion spell?_

Thousands of students, equally bright had attended Hogwarts over the centuries but amazingly, not one of them thought to use such a device. There were attempts of course. Access to the jewels meant power over the points but not a single student succeeded or came close.

_Brilliant …_

The wizard frowned deeply, feigning disapproval.

"I see. Well, Miss Granger, under normal circumstances I would be obligated to report you to the Headmistress but …" he paused, shifting uncomfortably. "I feel this time your actions were warranted."

Hermione relaxed. He wasn't going to reprimand her. Good.

"What do you suspect is going on?" She asked, anxious to hear his theories. The black-mood Professor wasn't the easiest man on earth to understand or get along with but he was remarkably intelligent. She had always admired that about him.

Glancing off, Snape chewed over this thoughts for a moment.

"I noticed the stones were glowing that night. I've never known them react that way … ever. It was as if they were responding to us … to our … _thoughts,_" he struggled to articulate. "The more we … _thought_, the brighter they glowed."

Hermione quickly surmised the word 'thought' was a substitute for the word 'feeling' and smiled inwardly. Was he shy? Was he so shy that he couldn't apply sentiment, even when the situation called for the application?

"I've searched the school's records. Thus far, no such incident has ever been reported. The House gems have been locked away in their perspective chambers for a thousand years! Never once … _until now_," he said gruffly, glancing at the smug Gryffindor knowingly. "Havethey been removed or tampered with!"

Snape stood up and trudged over to his cabinet. Though he had no need to organize his effects, menial tasks seemed to help him think clearly. It also kept him from having to meet the witch's eyes.

"I am certain the stones have been comprised. I just don't know how or why," he admitted. "I'm also quite certain the headmistress, teachers and students have been affected … much like ourselves, they seem to be out of sorts lately. Then I suppose … their behavior could be linked to the war … post traumatic something …"

Sitting quietly, Hermione considered this for a moment. Now that she thought about it, Snape was right. Everyone was behaving oddly that term, not just her friends. All the Gryffindors were behaving selfishly ... the Hufflepuffs had become increasingly grumpy and antagonistic and the Ravenclaws, well ... they seemed less focused. Slytherins were the least altered but perhaps she was bias.

"I've noticed," she said. "I've noticed that very same thing but I thought it was just me. Sir, I don't think it has anything to do with the war. I think you're onto something with the stones."

Severus's cheek twitched with appreciation. He liked that she wasn't trying to smartly disagree or 'one-up' his theory. He liked that for once, she was refraining from expressing her endless opinions. Maybe it was a fluke or the fact that she was beside herself with mixed feelings towards her testy, old teacher or maybe … just maybe, that 'one-stroke' broke her arrogance.

Batting his lashes rapidly, he picked up a pad and pencil and began cataloging his personal store. Again, he wasn't ignoring the witch but all of a sudden, he felt strange in her company.

Hermione sipped her tea in silence. She was feeling better but not all together whole. There was a big chunk left unsaid between them but she was too afraid to steer the conversation towards _that_. For the moment, the air between them was palatable.

"Ahem … this is pretty good. It has a peachy taste. What kind is it?" She asked, taking another sip.

It really was good. Snape prepared it in his lab next door. Surprisingly, he kept a healthy stock of non-potional items in there; sugar, tea, even cream. She never considered using a cauldron for anything other than potions but heck, why not?

Severus focused on numbering his ingredients. It was an appropriate question but the way he saw it, they were way passed polite chatter.

"Miss Granger …," he said delicately. "What did you feel that night? Can you describe it to me? Did you experience any unusual sensations before our encounter?"

The scientist never broke from his pad. From the witch's perspective, his tone was clinical and concentrated; as if what happened was a mere novelty and he was interested in studying the anomaly from a researcher's point of view.

His demeanor wasn't the least bit uncomfortable or frightening, if anything it made Hermione feel more relaxed; like she was talking to a doctor or healer but regardless of who he was pretending to be at that moment, she knew he was still Professor Snape, her first and only lover.

"I felt … I felt drawn to you …" she explained. "It was like being inside a dream and feeling compelled to walk … or run through a door … I can't explain it, it just felt right."

Snape stopped writing and looked at the witch. His expression was mute.

"I see … did you feel as though you had complete control over your actions?"

Blushing, Hermione sat back and studied her tea. "Yes …" she weakly replied.

Severus felt his heart drop. Her voice was shallow and unconvincing.

"Granger, I need to know if you were acting on your own free will ...." he persisted, forgetting his task and focusing intently on the Gryffindor.

Hermione cleared her throat and sat up. "Yes! Of course," she firmly answered.

"Good," the wizard said, returning to his work. He was relieved to hear she didn't feel forced at any point.

"And you? Did you feel like you had control?"

Frowning, Snape set aside the pad and began rummaging through his supplies. Where was his powered worm root?

"Had that been the case Miss Granger, we would not be having this discussion." He replied shortly, his tone clinical.

Hermione rolled her eyes. It wasn't the answer she was hoping for.

"Alright then, maybe we should test the stones ... to see if they will react again."

Severus slowly turned on the witch.

"Don't you think I've tried that?" He snorted. "Better still, how do you recommend we gage the effect? Everyone has been compromised! You can't go around using tainted samples in an experiment."

Hermione was so deep in thought that she failed to notice the wizard had gone back to being his usual testy self.

"Professor … have you noticed anything strange about Hagrid or Filch??"

Snape leaned against the counter top and folded his arms.

"Hagrid has always been strange," he answered. "It's hard to tell."

Hermione shot the wizard a nasty look.

"Well, I haven't noticed anything. Why do you suppose that is?"

After a moment, Snape caught the witch's meaning.

"Filch is a squib. Hagrid is half-human." He said dully.

"I think you're over thinking this, Professor."

Severus's eyes glazed over as he resisted the urge to reach out and swat the irritating Gryffindor. The know-it-all was back.

Hermione stood up and paced around the room. She was on the verge of an important breakthrough. She could feel it!

"I don't think magical bloodlines … or ability … or ancestry haveanything to do with it. Whatever magic is at play here, it seems to only affect House members, no one else. Hagrid was expelled ... which automatically eliminates him and Filch … well, he never attended Hogwarts."

Hermione stopped and looked up.

"You know what this means, don't you?"

Snape answered the witch with a raised brow.

"It has to be Torres!! The timing is too perfect. Moreover, she wouldn't be affected! She never attended Hogwarts!"

A brief silence befell the room as Hermione waited for the wizard to respond. After an exaggerated pause, he began to clap. It was a mock-clap of course, slow and deliberate. He was being sarcastic.

"Congratulations, Miss Granger. You've figured it out. I, myself, have always suspected Torres of treachery. However, the question remains … why?"

Hermione opened and closed her mouth several times. She wanted to present the wizard with an inspiring explanation but she was fresh out of ideas.

"Your theory has merit, Miss Granger but you've conveniently overlooked the portraits. Why are they behaving so strangely?"

Hermione's mind centered on the willful 8X10 hanging of Freddy Fredrick; he definitely qualified as strange but then she had no basis for comparison. It's possible that the ornery painting was acting normally but what about all the other paintings? She had noticed a sudden decline in hallway chatter ... and now that she thought about it, they weren't communicating like they once did. They were always asleep or chatting amongst themselves.

"No, Granger … I dare say this will require more research."

"Maybe we should tell the Headmistress?"

Snape's face became horrible. "Are you daft girl?! I have no desire to be sacked before figuring this out! Besides, you're not Minerva's golden pupil anymore. Or haven't you noticed?!" He spat.

A small grin appeared on Hermione's face which took the ill-tempered Potions Master by surprise.

"What's so bloody funny?"

"Sir … I didn't mean, tell her about us!" She chortled. "I meant … shouldn't we tell McGonagall about Torres?"

Severus's cheeks colored ever so slightly.

"I knew that …," he said lamely. "I just … I just thought we should keep everything between us until we know more."

"Professor ... sir ... whatever," Hermione said awkwardly. "How much more proof do we need?!"

"We need something more than conjecture. Do you have that??"

After a moment, Hermione shook her head no.

"No, I didn't think so. Do try to understand that I want the witch ousted as badly as you but not at the expense of my career or creditability! That said ..." he unhumorously mocked. "You will need to refrain from being such a typical Gryffindor!"

Hermione was tempted to blast the Slytherin with a bit of Gryffindor wisdom but wisely thought the better of it.

"Onto Draco Malfoy and our _agreement_ ..." he said, switching gears. "Tell me your plan."

* * *

**A/C:**Ouch! Strap-on dildo or troll size cucumber?? lol


	42. Fingering the Problem

In the weeks following their coupling, Severus and Hermione worked tirelessly to uncover the mysteries behind the glowing, discolored gems and the strange happenings at Hogwarts.

During class hours it was business as usual but at night, Hermione reported to Snape's labs. Her standing reprimand safely thwarted any suspicion, allowing them the privacy they needed to work uninterrupted. However, for the sake of appearance, Severus delighted in assigning the Gryffindor small chores.

"Alphabetize this …"

"Scrub that …"

"Dust those …"

Needless to say, Hermione was less than thrilled to find herself serving real detention under the veil of cooperation and study.

As she worked, the witch carefully reviewed the past few months; citing all her observations, no matter how small. She explored the difference in her friend's behavior, McGonagall's deviation, whatever information she had on Torres and her theories on Draco's connection.

Severus listened intently, digesting every ounce of her account. He noted several similarities between her experiences and his; minus the Granger-Weasley love tragedy for which he had no comment. He always felt that Hermione and Ron didn't belong together and refused to hop aboard the self-pity express. As far as he was concerned, Lavender was to breeding as Hermione was to learning. Brown would make a much better Weasley if it came to that.

Hermione worked every angle, dissecting every ill-spoken word and bizarre incident; including her encounter with a certain portrait named Freddy Fredrick, now MIA. Hermione took extra satisfaction in pointing out Adrian's flaws as expert after she squashed her plans seduce Snape many weeks prior; a small occurrence for which Snape had no knowledge.

"You know … for a defense instructor, she's not very bright," the Gryffindor pointed out.

Seconds, maybe minutes later, Severus reset his jaw and closed his mouth. Like any unfulfilled man, he had his heart set on getting laid that night and was hugely disappointed when Adrian didn't answer the door.

_'Hex the chit!'_ his loins demanded.

Hermione's smile faded when she noticed that the Professor didn't seem at all pleased with her interference.

"I'm sorry … maybe I should have ---" she paused, thinking that maybe she made a mistake admitting that it was _she_ who had cock-blocked him.

Snape quickly busied himself with a menial task. He wasn't at all happy about Granger's interference but he was relieved that he did not succumb to the witch's charms. He wasn't the most experienced wizard in the realm of sex so maybe it was all for the best.

Little did Severus realize that it was exactly that, his sexual inexperience, Adrian was counting on. She was convinced that his poor appearance, disposition and financial status would guarantee his hunger for female companionship thereby making him relatively easy to manipulate. She was right to an extent. For a time the greasy git, as he was often called, would've fallen victim.

"Please continue," Snape said impassively.

Six cauldrons, four cups of tea, three handkerchiefs and two nights later, Hermione completed her textbook recollection.

"Granger, I have some things I'd like to go over now. Are you finished?" He asked, grateful for the opportunity to lead.

He wasn't at all uninterested in Granger's theories. He was just ready to move on.

"Of course ---"

Snape advanced the witch's study by offering his opinions, footnotes and a few privy details from a carefully plotted point of view. His analysis was extremely thorough but unlike the Gryffindor, he didn't focus on trivial feelings and pointless disagreements. Sometimes he would become so engrossed in his examination that he failed to notice the sharp daggers in his cohort's eyes whenever he mentioned or compared Adrian's numerous advancements.

Night after night, the pair worked within a small scope of motives, spell books and explanations pertaining the Headmistress, Draco and Torres with no success. The Dark Lord was dead, his followers captured (most of them) and the Ministry's corrupt terminated or imprisoned. What possible interest could Hogwarts be to anyone? Motive was the missing component.

While under the protective eye of her coworker, Hermione performed several charms on the House stones in the hope of reanimating them but nothing worked. They refused to glow as they did that night in the corridor. Nor did they respond to any spells that might help to reverse their muddy state. Snape conducted his own experiments, casting several rights designed to ward off dark magic but like Hermione, he had no effect. The original spell, cast by the founders, prevented any tampering.

After working side-by-side for a period of time, Hermione came to understand Snape a little better. This helped to ease her trepidation over being in the iconic wizard's company. Eventually, she began to distinguish (somewhat) the duality that made him so enigmatic.

Snape was exceptionally brilliant, indifferent and remarkably empathic. He possessed the ability to objectively articulate feelings and reactions in such a way that one might think he was a casual observer verses a willing participant. This was his edge. He could triangulate, indentify and at times, suppress his own feelings by diagnosing the problem long before it became a problem. Outwardly, he was a controlled man, not the least bit governed by popular opinion and emotions, or so it seemed.

Life would one day prove that some people, like the emotionally neglected wizard, concealed their hearts because they were stricken with a terrible curse; the curse of sensitivity. It was because of that enhanced sensory that Snape was forced to mask his nature. One day, Hermione would see the heartbreaking cocoon and not the bitter moth. One day, she would finally understand his need for protection. Not everyone is born equal. Not everyone is born loved. For some people, the world is an unfair, cold place.

As time progressed, so did Hermione's interest in the solemn wizard. Her fantasies, sexual and otherwise, spilled over into her days. She barely noticed her housemate's aloofness or the small nuisances continuing to emerge all over the school. She liked thinking about him. She couldn't stop thinking about him. And she was pretty sure whatever was causing it, wasn't going to let up until she had him again.

Though Hermione's attraction bordered on obsession, her appreciation of Snape, the man, was genuine. In fact, his only real shortcoming; apart from his poisonous sarcasm, related to his abhorrence of _special _people. Hermione couldn't help but feel those particular dislikes were based on something beyond reason; jealousy, perhaps? No matter. His meltdowns proved that an ocean of molten rock existed under that arctic exterior; a turbulent flow of tides she desperately wanted to ride.

_I wouldn't mind being on top …_ she wagered, half-focused on the wizard's rant.

"That idiot, P_otter_ wasn't the only one! Those damn reporters hounded me for months," The wizard spat. "I was merely pointing out that it's a distinct possibility!"

Hermione hid her amusement with a scowl. "Professor, I seriously doubt that Professor Torres is working for the Daily Prophet. It just doesn't make any sense," she reasoned.

Snape dismissed the topic with a snort.

The pair continued meeting on a regular basis but as expected, the scholars didn't always see eye to eye. This sometimes resulted in a fiery debate over ethics which often led to a course of maddening silence.

"You ordered them to steal from Torres's quarters? How could you! What if they'd been caught? Torres would have hexed them for sure! If nothing else, she would've made sure they got their clothes! Honestly,_ sir_, you should've done it yourself!" Hermione scolded.

Snape continued marking his student's papers, seemingly unaffected by the witch's condemnation. Frankly, he saw no harm in requesting Olivia and Colby's help. The way he saw it, they owed him after he graciously allowed the 'humping' incident in his storeroom to go unreported.

"The end justifies the means. More to the point, I ordered them to snoop --- not to confiscate anything," He gruffly defended, snuffing out any further objection with a curt glance.

The small lie did little to discourage the pro-elf, Gryffindor from glaring over the photograph in disapproval. Admittedly, she found the picture intriguing but it proved nothing. It certainly wasn't worth risking two innocent reputations for its retrieval. Hermione might have felt differently, had the Professor chosen to divulge all of his findings. He easily justified his silence by assuming the information about Goyle and Torres's sex affair was of no consequence.

Though the Professor made averting his eyes look easy, he 'like Hermione' was nothing if not a complete fraud. The art of Occulmens kept his mind safe but his body, particularly his lower half, had a will of its own. For that reason, Severus took deflating draught every night and jacked off in the shower nearly every morning; something he'd never admit to under the worse torture! Shamefully, it was the only way the he could cope.

The days began to pass slower and slower and the evenings quicker and quicker. Hermione soon found herself at an impasse with her theories and resources. Nothing she knew or did was helping and the Professor was becoming thin on ideas, not to mention patience.

"Professor, it's nearing curfew. May I please return to Gryffindor?" She yawned, juggling the faded gems in her palm.

"You may leave once you've contributed something useful," he flatly replied.

"What? I've --- I've contributed. I've contributed plenty!"

"Not from where I'm sitting."

Hermione's eyes became slits.

"Granger ..." he wearily began. "I, more than anyone, am on your side but Torres's character is not in question. Our suspicions must be substantiated with evidence and our evidence must be irrefutable. Haste born accusations are much like ill-prepared potions. A brewer should never waste valuable ingredients on a half-baked concoction! It is a lesson I learned a very long time ago."

Severus instantly recalled dozens of reports pertaining to Potter, Black and the Marauders. They always got away with everything and most of it has _his_ expense. If he'd only been more patient, documented their misdeeds more carefully … he could've had them all expelled!

"I suppose every night in detention for the last two weeks and numerous hours reading in the library doesn't count?!"

The witch's exasperation barely registered in Snape's mind as he carefully added three drops of dragon blood to his brew. The potion turned bright purple on contact.

_It should be gold …_ he frowned.

"Since you failed to find anything useful, I'd say not. For all I know, you could have spent that time sleeping or _pining_ over _Weasley_," he sneered, curling his lip in disgust. Snape didn't believe for one second the witch was sleeping on the job but she could have been distracted by something. He didn't like to think it was her ex-beau of all people.

The term _fail_ made Hermione's left eye spasm involuntarily. She was becoming all too accustomed to his mood swings and general lack of appreciation but understanding his poor disposition didn't make tensions between them in easier.

"Maybe it was a fluke! Maybe WE didn't react to stones … maybe they were reacting to US?!"

Severus's eyes shot up. He was committed to believing his weakness was the result of some uncontrollable force and was reluctant to entertain any other possibility.

"Don't be absurd. You just have to try harder."

"And you? What are you doing to help? While you're busy playing mad scientist …" Hermione scoffed, motioning towards the wizard's purple concoction. "I'm the one slaving over century old books, not to mention your honey-do-list! Honestly, _sir_, what have you contributed?"

_Honey-do-list_ … he mused.

Over an exaggerated pause, Snape glared at the witch. Then, as if out of the blue, he lowered his eyes and set down his ladle. He purposely scooted back so that his stool registered a faint squeak as he rose, creating a more dramatic effect.

Hermione's shift was subtle but noticeable.

With his hands folded neatly behind his back, the snarky Slytherin calmly approached the Gryffindor's station.

"This _mad _scientist …" he mocked, resisting the urge to laugh. " ... is working to create a possible antidote. McGonagall informed me by owl that Goyle is suffering from a rare type of staph infection. Unfortunately, the hospital does not possess a resident Potions Master so I am doing my part to assist. In regards to helping, I should think that would be obvious. Since you are a student and quite inexperienced in the realm dark arts, despite your honorable mentions concerning the war … I am devising a plan that would ultimately place me at the center of controversy. You, as usual, may go back to your dormitory and rest soundly knowing that you will not have to pay a single toll for your … _troubles_. That is my contribution," said Snape, leaning far enough over so that his breath filled the witch's nostrils.

Right then, he detected a small movement in the witch's throat. Was she working on a snappy reply?

Hermione searched the wizard's face. "Professor ... no one is asking you to do anything alone," she swallowed. "We can do this together."

"Together?" Snape chortled, snapping back into the upright position. "If I can't convince the powers-that-be that something is truly wrong _after_ divulging my suspicions, it is _I_ who will suffer the cost. How am I to believe that you can handle the pressure when you have difficulty stomaching any observation that isn't to your favor?"

The wizard suddenly noticed Hermione's throat move again. "Granger is something the matter?" he blurted.

Hermione shook her head no and stood up. When she did, she unintentionally closed the small space between their bodies.

"May I be excused, Professor?" She asked hurriedly, desperately avoiding eye contact.

Snape studied the Gryffindor with a tempered smirk. He found her skittish behavior intriguing, if not downright amusing. Just minutes earlier, she was ready to rip him a new one and now … well, now she seemed almost frightened of him. Severus savored the fear he invoke in others, particularly as a teacher. Mental intimidation was the mother of all control and austerity was power. It was the mask that hid all his insecurities behind.

_Well, well … did I touch a nerve?_

"When I'm ready for you to leave," he smoothly replied; unaware the effect his voice was having on the witch.

Hermione's eyes fluttered but only slightly. The subtle reaction stirred another, wholly different reaction in Severus. Oh, God, what was he seeing?

"Sir … it's late and I have to … to get ready for tomorrow," she said, unconsciously placing the dull stones on the table. "Draco is scheduled to leave in the morning."

The thought of Draco, Hermione's assignment and the importance of this particular weekend crashed the wizard's enchantment.

"Yes …, of course. You may go," he conceded, snapping out of his daze.

Hermione was not as skilled at the art of disconnecting herself from a situation. She was drunk with the wizard's presence; so much in fact, that she clumsily tripped over Snape's foot when she tried to leave.

"Careful there," he spat, catching the witch by the elbow.

The weight of her body drew him closer.

Hermione quickly regained her footing and glanced up. She was now painfully aware that only a thin passage of air separated their bodies. She didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to analyze it. She no longer cared why it was happening. She just wanted him. She needed him and frankly, she just didn't give a damn about the consequences anymore.

"Kiss me," she whispered.

The proposition took the wizard by storm. Had it not been for the deflating draught, his cock would have answered the witch immediately.

"Wha--what?"

"_Kiss me_ …"

"I ..."

_Please don't …_ his eyes pleaded.

Severus wanted her as badly as she seemed to want him but it wasn't right. It just wasn't right. He was NO saint but he wasn't a vulture either. Was she even aware of what she was asking?

Right then, Snape recalled the stones and glanced over. They weren't glowing.

"Please, Severus …" she urged, closing what little distance remained between them. "Kiss me …"

Snape entire body stiffened. "Hermione …" he breathed, just as her mouth closed over his.

The wizard shuddered in response. He knew he ought to pull away. He knew in his heart whatever was happening couldn't be real but he couldn't bring himself to stop it. He didn't want to stop it.

"Please …" she murmured; her voice barely audible as she worked his tight mouth with a series of butterfly kisses.

Snape's resolve shattered, taking with it whatever care he had for the consequences. With a full heart, he collapsed into the witch; devouring her mouth in a single swoop. Hermione returned his wantonness with as much, if not more fervor. Quickly, their tongues became entwined with one another. Hermione tasted of honey while Severus's flavor was reminiscent of a strong cup of Earl Grey.

Hermione pressed her body against the wizard, instinctively grinding her thatch against his crotch. This assertive move forced the wizard backward, causing him to lose his balance and fall onto the table. Hermione landed on top and quickly maneuvered her body over his hips.

The witch's aggressiveness was unnerving to say the least but dear Merlin ... it was such a turn on. The greasy bat of the dungeons never felt so desired.

Hermione wasted no time wrapping her wanton legs around Snape's thin torso as she explored every inch of his mouth. Within seconds, she was dry humping him fast and hard right there in his lab! Severus felt his cock twitch despite the powerful draught he'd taken.

"I want you … please, Severus … please finish what you started," she gasped.

"I … I can't …"

"Yes … yes, you can … I want you too," she said, hovering over his nose and lips. "Please … I need you. I can't go another day not knowing how it … how _you_, truly feel … please --- please finish."

"I … I can't Hermione," the wizard grimaced, his face red with embarrassment. "I took something … something that would prevent me from … _performing_."

"You took something … why?"

Snape closed his eyes. Here on his lap was a beautiful woman, sober and willing, and he couldn't deliver. He couldn't deliver!

"Oh …" Hermione said forgivingly. Obviously, the Potions Master was more attracted to her than he was willing to admit.

_He took a deflating draught because of me?_

"Maybe you should … ahem, maybe you should … dismount?"

Severus hated the suggestion almost as badly as having to make it. Fuck!

Hermione looked sympathetically into the face of the man she wanted so desperately. He wasn't telling her no. He was simply telling her no for now.

"I will get down if you promise me something."

Severus was in no position to argue. She had him by the balls. She could ask him anything, anything at all and he would not refuse her.

"Even if it's just once … promise me you will give me my first time; like it should have been … like it ought to be. Will you do that for me? Can you promise me that?"

Snape felt his heart sink. "I don't know …" he answered, suddenly very unsure of himself. He simply wasn't confident enough in his abilities to assure her an unforgettable experience. More importantly, would she want him once the the sex haze wore off? Would he want_ this_ once the blood returned to his brain? He was pretty sure he'd want Hermione anytime, anywhere in any position but he questioned her sincerity even now.

Hermione mistook the wizard's silence for rejection and nodded. She slowly slid down his body and onto her feet but the look of disappointment in her eyes did not give up so easily. It stung the wizard's pride.

"Of course …" he thickly answered, slipping his hand underneath her robe. "But, Hermione, there is more to this than I can give you … much more. I don't pretend to be an expert in this area but I'm sure you will let me know if I'm doing it correctly?"

Like a wild-eyed rabbit, Hermione's brown orbs exploded.

Severus lifted the witch and placed her firmly on the countertop. His eyes never strayed from hers as he explored her inner thighs, hedging for an objection. He received none. Hermione's eyes fluttered shut when she felt his hand slip pass her net into her slippery folds.

The witch's lusty sigh was matched only by the wizard's appreciation.

_Merlin she's wet_ … he groaned.

"Yes … keep going," she coaxed, circling her hips hungrily.

"Are you sure …?" he asked.

Hermione's eyes sprung open. She looked almost angry. Snatching her robes back, she guided Snape's hand over her entrance. Forgoing ceremony, she thrust his finger deep into her pussy and hissed.

"Go deeper," she instructed the stunned wizard.

Being the obedient servant he was Severus oblidged. He drove his virtual cock deep and hard, manually fucking the wanton witch until she was rocking against the assault.

"Harder! Harder!" she told him, forgetting completely that it was Snape's finger and not his cock buried inside deep her.

Her lustful wails only fueled Severus's desire to please the witch. He gladly and willingly gave her what she asked for, ramming his surrogate member in and out of her pussy with abandonment. He only wished it could be him devastating her flesh instead of this poor substitute.

_Mercy, I would punish it … I could give her every reason to scream,_ he told himself; thinking heavily of his cock. The witch rewarded his battery with a thick coat of arousal, signifying that he was doing everything perfectly.

"More ... more," she rasped. "Oh ... oh, Severus ...."

Smirking with pride, the wizard used his thumb to rub her swollen clit as finger fucked the witch into a bucking frenzy. He may not have been a sex god but reading had its advantages.

"Yes! Yes! I'm so close … so very close," Hermione panted. "Don't stop … please don't stop!!"

"I want you to come, Hermione but first … open your eyes. I want to see you," he pleaded, never missing a beat as he spoke.

The wizard was nothing if not a fast learner.

Hermione slowly opened her eyes and looked into the face of the man bringing her to the brink of orgasm. His oily locks moved in motion, mimicking the act he so badly wanted to perform himself. Here was Professor Severus Snape; Head of Slytherin, Master of Potions and the terror of Hogwarts, not to mention Harry's one-time nemesis. Here was Snape, the same wizard bringing her to beg and buck, spilling her lust onto a work table; the same man who will forever hold a place in her memory as her first lover. His gaunt face, outdated robes and enormous hook nose remained unchanged but for reasons she couldn't explain, he was the most beautiful man she had ever seen.

"I … I …" she gasped.

"Let go, Hermione … let go …" he said softly, locking eyes with the witch.

Seconds later, Hermione arched her spine, threw back her head back and erupted in a burst of deafening silence. It was the most powerful release her body had ever experienced. There were no words to explain the rush, nothing that would accurately describe the ecstasy. She simply came.

Snape felt Hermione's hub clench his finger. Instinctively, he knew to hold his mark. Seconds, maybe minutes later the cataclysmic quake subsided, releasing a river of sweet smelling sex as a reward. Smiling wickedly, the wizard slowly pumped his finger in and out of the witch's hot, soaked pussy; topping her off with one last thrill as she gradually recovered.

He had taken her virginity, an unknowing accident on his part but now he had given something a back. He had given her a real sexual experience. If any proof was needed, it lay warmly and abundantly in his hand. By all accounts, Hermione Granger was a woman.

Severus eased back and lowered the witch's robes. He was amazed by the silky fluid on his fingers and studied it closely for several moments. It was warm and sweet smelling, much like the Gryffindor panting underneath. Hermione looked absolutely beautiful. She was covered in droplets of perspiration and glowing from fulfillment. He wasn't sure how long this moment would last but he was sure this memory of her would live on forever.

Hermione sat up and smoothed her hair. "Thank you ..." she said sheepishly.

"You're welcome. Do you need more time to recover?" He replied, quickly tidying up with a flick of his wand.

Hermione shook her head no. The wizard sounded as if he was inviting her to tea but instead of laughing, she kindly brushed off his formality with a smile.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione lowered herself onto the floor. She was grateful to the wizard, very grateful but she was inexperienced in the realm of after sex. In truth, so was Severus. Now that the moment had passed, everything felt awkward. Good, but awkward.

"Um … I should be going."

Severus easily deduced the witch was embarrassed. She was practically glowing in the dark! Not at all like the woman dry humping his crotch twenty minutes prior. Still, Severus found her shyness endearing. It was like experiencing the whole awkward affair with someone on his level.

"Then … I shall see you tomorrow," he said nobly.

"I will try to stop by and see you before Draco leaves, but if I don't, I will report back as soon as I'm able."

"Good, very good … do you need a ---"

"A pass? Everyone knows I'm serving detention, sir ---" she said, breaking her sentence off at the end.

She hadn't meant to call him, _sir_.

Blushing, Hermione grabbed her knapsack and made a b-line towards the door. Severus stood idly by, unable to say or do anything. It felt as if she was running away from him but he should have expected that. Their time was over and she had to return to Gryffindor Tower.

_Yes, yes ... she is leaving because she has too,_ he told himself.

Hermione stopped when she reached the door and looked back. "Good night, Professor." She smiled, determined to end the evening on a high note.

The gesture did not go unappreciated. "Good night, Miss Granger." He said amicably.

Once she was safely gone, Severus looked down at his flaccid tool. There could be no mistake. His deflating draught worked perfectly.

"I'm just too good at what I do," he griped.


	43. Weekend Holiday, Part I

The following morning, Severus woke up two hours late.

_Circa!_ He raged, springing from his bed.

The wizard scourified himself and adorned his usual, Victorian robes. As he dressed, his mind swarmed with thoughts of Hermione, their previous night together and her mission. Considering all the dangers, he now questioned whether or not he should allow her to leave. Abilities aside, the Gryffindor was young; prone to rashness and silly notions of valor. If she were to run into trouble there would be no one around to help.

Immaculate as ever, Snape charged into his office. Draco was scheduled to depart after breakfast and knowing his overachieving helper the way he did, Hermione was waiting by the gates. No doubt, since dawn!

_Fuck … _he thought; cursing his tardiness.

Severus made Hermione take the oath to protect his interests but now his interests had changed. If the plan backfired, she would be the one in need of protecting. Draco was a fool-hearted brat but no dunce. He might be on the lookout for treachery, however ignorant of the source, and strike at the first sign of danger.

The wizard quickly poured Goyle's antidote in a small, traveling vile. He didn't trust the post to deliver it in tact and therefore, would have to deliver it himself. As he was leaving, Severus glimpsed _their _table from across the room and stopped.

"Weak," he intoned, berating his lack of control.

What was it about the witch that made him do what he shouldn't?

Snape answered himself with a conflicted wince.

He was wrong, so very wrong; yet unapologetic in the deepest respect. Yes, he felt ashamed because of his status as a teacher but she was an adult, body and soul; perfectly capable of sexing whomever she wanted. Why not him? Why shouldn't he benefit? For reasons he couldn't fathom, the she wanted him and despite his best efforts to resist, he couldn't. She tore through his defenses like wet parchment.

_Have mercy ..., _he swallowed.

The last time he alllowed himself to _desire _a woman it ended badly, very badly.

The wizard trailed over to the work station. The stones were still there, lying dully on the countertop. They weren't glowing … they hadn't glowed. They hadn't given off the slightest indication they were the least bit affected.

"Curious …," he muttered, his black orbs flickering over the gems wantonly.

He wanted them to shimmer. He wanted them to react. He wanted them to do something.

DONG, DONG (Clock Chiming)

Startled, Snape flinched and glanced over. It was nearly nine o'clock. He better hurry if he wanted to make it in time. Severus scooped up the stones and placed them into his coat pocket. He'd have plenty of time to study them later. For now, he needed to find Hermione and fast.

* * *

Hermione fought back the urge to yawn as she waited in the brush near the gate. As an added precaution, she was disillusioned but still visible to the trained eye. The charm was designed to serve as a camouflage, not a mask. Shimmers could be detected if the looker was looking directly at it.

The winter season was quickly approaching, resulting in a cold, dreary day. Hermione wore several layers of Muggle clothing and a thick scarf to protect her from the elements. There was a good chance that her assignment would leave her outdoors so she prepared for the worse.

As Hermione waited, her mind moved between her apprehension over the mission and Snape. He was so very thoughtful the night before, placing her pleasure first with very little hope of a reward and how did she repay him? She scurried away like a frightened little mouse! She didn't even offer to reciprocate. Not that she would've known what to do but still ... she could've said or done more to show her appreciation.

The student in Hermione blushed over the thought of getting down and dirty with her Professor but the woman inside craved it beyond words. She desperately wanted him but she was girlishly afraid of him at the same time. He was so powerful, so controlled; his presence commanded something, a type of supremacy she couldn't explain.

Hermione felt her mind swoon. How did she ever fall for such a razor witted, crank?

*Complete stillness*

Fall?

Did she just say fall? Was she falling? Had she fallen? No, that couldn't be it. It was too soon. There was still so much she didn't know about the wizard and even more she didn't like. True love takes years to blossom. Just take her and Ron. She didn't know she loved him until …

*Complete stillness*

Hermione's face twisted into a curious 'S' as she flipped through the pages of her memory. She didn't know she loved him until …

Until ...

Her face dulled.

She never loved him. She never loved Ron. Not like a lusty lover, anyway. She wanted it to be love. She thought it was love but Ron never made her feel _that _way. He just didn't do it for her. He never did.

_Will you just stop thinking and concentrate on Draco! _She told herself, marred by the thought that she was never in love with her childhood friend; that maybe, just possibly, she didn't know her own heart.

Suddenly, atop the hill, a shadowy figure appeared. This pulled Hermione out of her mind and into the task. It was definitely, Malfoy. His signature blond hair and black cloak fluttered in the breeze as he made his way hurriedly down the narrow path.

_Here goes ..._ Hermione thought.

"Miss Granger," a man's voice said, kneeling beside her.

Hermione was certain she felt her heart skip a beat when turned around and saw a distinct, glassy figure hunched down. She couldn't make out his face but his voice was unmistakable.

"Professor, what are you doing here?!" She squeaked.

"Reconsidering our arrangement," he smoothly answered.

"What?"

"Forget your oath. I release you from it. It's too dangerous. I cannot allow you to leave school grounds. Draco Malfoy will throw you over at the first opportunity!"

Hermione felt the heat rise in her cheeks. Did he think her incapable of handling the wizard? Was he worried that she would be caught … or worse, fail?

"Um, thanks but I'll be fine. You can go," she said, turning her attention towards Draco. He was halfway down the path and gaining ground fast.

"Maybe you didn't hear me," the wizard said tensely. "I release you from your oath."

Hermione steered her body in the voice's direction.

"You can't release me unless I agree and I don't. I --- we've waited too long for this opportunity and I'm not going to let it slip by because you've developed a case of cold feet!"

Cold feet? Could she not see that he was concerned for her safety?

"Granger, I am still a Hogwarts's Professor and _your_ superior and I demand that you get your ARSE back inside!!"

"Sorry _SIR,_ but no!" She brazenly sniffed.

Snape was sorely tempted to bend the insolent witch over his knee and give her several good wallops. How dare she defy him! It was _he _who assigned her this task and it was _he_ who should decide whether or not she completed it!

"Shh! He's almost here," said Hermione, removing her wand and training it on the young wizard.

The rustle of her coat alerted Severus.

"What are you doing?"

"Tracking charm," she dumbly replied.

"Granger, I will tell you once more …"

Hermione tapped her wand, attaching a discreet trajectory charm onto his cloak. She had hoped it would've latched onto something more permanent but beggars can't be choosers. She was just thankful that she didn't miss. The wizard beside her was very distracting.

"Get your cheeky, boneheaded ---"

Hermione hopped up and scampered away; cutting Severus off mid-sentence.

_Bloody hell!_ He cursed, drawing his wand.

If he had too, he'd hex the witch into compliance.

As Draco approached the gates, he withdrew his rod and murmured the password Snape had given him. The steel entrance immediately opened and parted way. Smiling smugly, the wizard waltzed through and apparated.

Hermione chased after his smoky remnants, stopping only to concentrate on her apparation technique. In that fraction of a delay, Snape caught up. He grabbed hold of the witch's arm just before a shrinking, tightening rush lured them inside a suffocating tunnel of darkness.

* * *

Draco rematerialized misstep inside a damp, brick alleyway, unnoticed by the hobos and drunkards littering its hall. The men and women barely offered the young man an upward glance as they huddled closely together for warmth.

"Out of my way," he hissed to one man struggling to stay topside.

"Say sir, can you spare some sterling for a starving man?" He breathed, latching on the boy's fine silk cloak.

The overpowering scent of alcohol and rotten eggs stung the wizard's sensitive nostrils.

"Get off me!" Draco sneered, sweeping back his robes in disgust.

The hobo lost his balance and fell backward into several bags of garbage. Dazed, he observed the young man through hooded eyes. It took him nearly five minutes to make it to his feet last time. The other inhabitants looked on as the well-to-do stranger darted pass. They had no desire to trouble the foul git.

Moments later, two shimmering bodies appeared out of nowhere. They broke from the apparation tunnel in a thunderous roar, startling many of the locals and their pets. The last visitor hadn't made a sound.

"Professor," Hermione gasped, barely able to stand from the added weight. "You can let go now!"

Snape broke from the witch. "Where are we?" he blurted, examining the alleyway with abhorrence.

"I don't know …" she said wearily. "But if I had to guess, I'd say we're not in Scotland anymore."

The Muggles gazed dully at the murmuring figures. Were they seeing things?

"Professor …," whispered Hermione. "Maybe we should ---"

Before she could finish her sentence, Snape yanked the witch behind two dumpsters. From there, he removed their camouflage with a flick of his wrist.

"They're Muggles," he needlessly announced. "We can't be seen this way."

"But Malfoy …"

"We'll just have to keep our distance."

"We ..? Sir, this is my responsibility ---"

"Deal with it! I'm here and I'm not going back without you. So take your pick, me or the assignment?" Snape asked, glaring into witch's brown puddles.

Hermione idled for several seconds.

"Malfoy is getting away," she relented, hastening around the bend and out of Snape's reach.

Clucking his tongue, the wizard summoned his reserve and followed the Gryffindor around the dumpster. He planned on ripping her a new one once they returned to Hogwarts but right now, the situation called for patience.

Severus and Hermione hurried down the drippy, stinky corridor. The homeless occupants displayed only a mild interest in their presence and the oddity of their arrival. They seemed more interested in staying warm than accosting the moneyed strangers, particularly after the first prick.

"These poor people," said Hermione, noticing an old lady huddled next to a frail man.

"Poor yes, but do not pity them, Miss Granger." Snape calmly replied. His tone wasn't cruel, merely indifferent.

Dismayed by his callousness, the witch gawked at his beaky profile. His didn't seem to notice her eyeing him appallingly. Either that or he didn't care.

"How can you say that?"

"They are products of their own circumstance. Before you go dispensing sympathy, take into consideration that not all lost souls are in need of help."

"That is so heartless! Are you implying that these people deserve this? That they deserve to be cold and destitute? What about that old couple back there? Are you suggesting that they're lazy, no good bums?"

Snape's mouth tightened.

"Of course, not; what I said doesn't apply to _everyone _but some of these very same people will happily slit your throat in the middle of the night for a thin coat, or a swig of ale. Circumstances change people, even good people. You must learn to discern compassion from gullibility. While you're doing that, please try to keep your Gryffindor sensibilities in check, will you? It's nauseating." The wizard said grumpily.

He was still peeved over the witch's defiance.

Before Hermione could respond, they exited the alleyway into a dodgy district filled with street merchants and common ruffians. Severus was relieved that he decided to tag along. This was no place for a lady, witch or otherwise.

"Over there," Hermione pointed. Draco was barreling down the sidewalk.

Snape locked arms with the witch. "Stay close," he ordered, daring her to object.

The pair sped down the street in pursuit of the lone figure walking covertly towards his destination. Draco kept his head down and his feet moving, apparently weary of the Muggles he passed. Snape was also careful, greeting every nosy onlooker with a beware glare. Having been raised in an impoverished area of Muggle London made him savvy to the nature of people.

The regulars couldn't resist eyeing the weirdly fashioned stranger and his young companion as they passed. The man was so peculiar and the girl, well … she didn't fit either.

* * *

"Do you suppose that's his bird?" one man asked, greedily admiring Hermione's jean clad arse as she strode by.

"Could be," his friend answered. "But I don't see how. He's one ugly fuck. And what's with those freaky clothes?"

"Dunno, maybe he's a clergyman. It could be that he's here to save all us wicked farts!"

"Lucky bastard, I sure wouldn't mind saving those wares."

The men grinned nastily.

* * *

Snape and Hermione observed Draco enter a small bookstore. He didn't stop to see if anyone was watching but then, he had no reason to think anyone was looking for him.

"Visiting his mother my arse," Snape grumbled.

Hermione fought back the urge to smile. "W-what?" She sputtered.

"Nothing, come on!"

Snape unknowingly drug the witch several feet.

"Professor … Professor Snape ... sir! I can manage on my own, thank you!" She spat, straining against his possessive handle.

For a second, the wizard looked absolutely livid but then he remembered himself and let go.

"Sorry," he lamely offered.

Hermione accepted his apology with a lazy nod and focused her attention on the bookstore.

"Ebony Heights," she read aloud. "Have you ever heard it?"

"No. Never. In fact, I don't have the first clue where we are ..." he drifted, noting the Muggle observers as they passed.

Snape was definitely out of his element. Everyone was gawking at him. Though he tried not to show it, he hated it when people stared. It reminded him of when his mother used to leave in the park for hours on end while she, and Tobias 'made up' after an argument. The park people always stared.

"Wait here, I'm going inside." Hermione said.

Snape spun away from the heavily pierced gal with blue hair and frowned.

"Sir --- between the two of us, I'm the least conspicuous. Will you please allow me to do the job you asked me to do? You can watch from the abandoned doorway over there for any sign of trouble but you needn't worry. I'll be fine," she managed to say without sounding too annoyed.

Scowling still, the wizard studied the streetscape. There was sense in arguing with her at this juncture. The danger was minimal. He would be able to observe from a distance and if any trouble should arise, blow the bookstore apart with a few simple slashes.

"Very well," he gingerly put, offering the witch a mock-bow. He would take refuge at his appointed hideaway.

Hermione waited for Snape to reach a respectable distance before turning into the store. She couldn't understand why he didn't trust her to complete the assignment alone. Was he being careful like he said, or a control Nazi that wanted everything _his_ way?

_Nazi. _She reasoned.

Hermione emerged from the beaded entrance to find herself amidst several rows of books and artifacts. The windows were painted black which cast a dark shadow on everything but it was obvious that Ebony Heights wasn't your typical Muggle bookstore.

Skulls, old maps and pentagrams decorated the desks and walls while the more expensive items such as rare books; scrolls and herbs were housed in a special glass case beneath the counter. There was an eerie ambient music playing in the background and glowing white candles everywhere. Whoever owned the bookstore was into the craft or at least, the movie version of it.

Hermione found a chair in the corner of the room and sat down.

_See Professor, easy …_ she thought, concealing her face with a book she'd plucked from the shelf.

* * *

Severus waited in the cold for nearly thirty minutes. Though he was heavily focused on the bookstore, he wasn't oblivious to all the Muggle rubbernecking going on. It seemed everyone who passed him by wanted to stop and stare. They didn't but they wanted too.

"_Backbirths_," he intoned, reviled by their uncouth behavior.

"Hey there, love," a voice said from behind.

Severus slowly turned around. A woman, perhaps twenty-six or seven, was smiling up at him merrily. She was wearing an old jean jacket, orange dress and black stiletto boots. Her hair was horrendously styled into sloppy bun atop her head but unlike the other Muggles, it wasn't dyed.

"Why are you standin' out here all by your lonesome?"

"I beg your pardon?" He said dully.

"Well, um … I was just curious. Why you are standing out here doing nothing?"

Snape arched his brow and snorted so hard he caught the wind of it in his chest.

_The nerve of some people …_

"I _am_ doing something."

"Yeah, … what?"

"Waiting," he answered, returning to his duties.

*silence*

Moments later, the woman spoke again.

"I'm Katie by the way," she happily put forth.

Snape wheeled back around.

"Miss Katie …" he said, resisting the urge to growl. "What do you want? I'm busy."

"I want to know your name, silly."

Peering down, Severus looked incredulously at the woman.

"Madam … I don't ---"

"Want to talk to me??" She finished.

Snape's eyes went cold.

"I understand," Katie said sadly. "I was just making conversation. You know … like they do on tv? You seem like a decent bloke and … well, we don't get too many of those around here. I guess I just wanted to say, hi ... but I don't want to be a bother. See ya, around love."

The young woman tucked her hands inside her pockets and turned away. She didn't engage anyone else, just herself as she mumbled a senseless ditty.

Severus felt a rock drop into his belly. Perhaps she was just being nice. She had to be. She called him a decent bloke for Pete's sake! Maybe she was a special case, a mental. Yes, that made sense. At first glance, he was anything but decent so she must be _special ..._

The fact she was now talking to herself, supported his hypothesis.

"Miss _Katie_," he forced.

The young woman stopped and swung around. "Yes," she answered.

"Snape. My name is Severus Snape."

Katie's whole face brightened. Severus didn't want to know, guess or ask why.

"It's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Severus."

"Professor Snape, Mr. Snape or Snape will do just fine, Miss."

"Oh, sorry … it's nice to meet you, Mr. Snape," she corrected, still beaming ridiculously in his direction.

Struck with a grossly uncomfortable feeling, Severus folded his arms and rolled away. He wasn't in the habit of mistreating mentals. Strangers, yes … colleagues, yes … students, everyday but not mentals.

"Now go away," he intoned.


	44. Weekend Holiday, Part II

Hermione carefully hid behind a book entitled, _Black Magic: the Seventh Circle_; a best seller and second edition according to the illustrative jacket. The cover depicted a hooded figure standing outside an iron gate leading into a misty cemetery. At first, Hermione thought it was a novel or some other work of fiction but after reading a few pages, she saw that it was nothing of the sort. It was a manual, a book of conjecture and half-baked concoctions trying desperately to pass itself off as a guide to the Dark Arts.

Fixed somewhere between a smirk and a scoff, Hermione looked up and scanned the room. Draco was nowhere to be found. She could only assume he was in the back with the proprietor. Sighing, she reluctantly resumed reading.

Sometime later …

_What a complete crock!_ She chortled, rolling over the bit about demon seduction.

"So … it's agreed then?" she heard Draco say in the distance.

Hermione stopped what she was doing and listened.

"Of course," a delicate voice responded. "It would be an honor to serve his Lordship."

Moments later, Malfoy and a thirty-something year old woman entered the main branch of the bookstore. Draco didn't seem at all thrilled to be there and made it a point to stand a respectable distance from the woman eyeing him lustfully.

The proprietor spoke with a Nigerian accent. She wore a bone choker and several layers of bright silk over her curvaceous figure. She had freakishly long nails and her hair was closely trimmed which complimented her cat-like, onyx eyes. Hermione thought the woman resembled a tribe priestess or African dignitary more than a hog tart bookstore owner.

The Gryffindor couldn't help but smile over the way the Slytherin was responding to her; like a young pup under the weight of his Auntie's blundering kisses.

"Is there anything else I can do for you while you're here … anything at all?" She said, licking her lips suggestively.

The wizard shuddered. He didn't care for aggressive women.

"No! We've concluded our business," he replied, stepping back.

"Another time maybe?" she said, closing the small gap between their bodies.

Malfoy's sickly expression said it all. He needed to escape the wench and fast! Willing or not, he wasn't going to stick his goods in a woman so willing to be stuck.

"Just do your _part_ …," he sneered. "And you will receive your just reward when the time is right."

The Muggle woman backed away and offered her master a noble bow.

"Good day," the wizard finished, stalking out of the shop and away from certain rape.

Hermione waited several moments before placing her book aside and followed. She was accosted just short of the beaded curtain when the store owner suddenly noticed her presence.

"May I help you?!" She called out.

Hermione paused and wheeled around. "Um, hi … no, I was just browsing," she said uncomfortably.

The woman examined the young Brit, carefully.

"I see. And what were you looking for? Perhaps, I can be of some assistance?"

"No, thank you. I was just looking. You have a lot of ... interesting things!"

"Thank you. Anything you'd like to buy?" She pressed.

Hermione was sorely tempted to tell the woman where she could stick her magical knock-offs but wisely thought the better of it.

"Er --- maybe later. I'm in a hurry but …," she paused. "May I ask you a question?"

"Yes, of course –"

"This may sound a little strange …" the Gryffindor swallowed.

The owner titled her head curiously. "Go on," she said.

"Are you … ahem – are you a witch?"

The Nigerian lady smiled and slid gracefully behind the glass counter.

"Yes, I am. And proudly so," she replied, confident in her answer.

Hermione weathered the storm of laughter in her belly as she glanced around the absurdly decorated bookstore one more time. The proprietor may have been a mystic, a believer but she was no sorceress. True, she possessed a few magical items but none of it posed a threat or sparked much of an interest. Most of her supplies consisted of standard households such as herbs, crystals, candles, etc. And her books … well, she didn't recognize a single title!

_Why would Malfoy come here?_

"Ah … well, that answers my question. I should be going now," said the 'real' witch amidst a wide turn. "Good day!"

"Wait ---"

*Clunk, Slam*

The Muggle woman blinked after her lost profit. Had she frightened the young girl away?

* * *

Malfoy shot out of the bookstore. Snape quickly ducked into the archway and waited for him to turn down the sidewalk. Thankfully, the wizard chose to walk in the opposite direction.

Moments later, Hermione emerged. She didn't see Snape right away but after a second or two, she glimpsed a wisp of his hair flailing in the breeze. Severus peeked around the corner and found his partner glaring back at him expectantly.

'This way,' she mouthed.

Severus stepped out of the doorway and marched up to the witch. "Well? What did you learn?" he asked, observing the bookstore with some curiosity.

"I will explain on the way. Let's go –"she replied, leading the wizard down the sidewalk.

True to her word, Hermione recounted everything in perfect detail. It didn't take long but when she finished, Snape appeared both alarmed and baffled.

"Malfoy consorting with a Muggle witch?" he said strangely.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That woman was no witch!" She hastily defended.

Severus offered his side-along a tasteful smirk.

"Tut … tut … are we prejudice, Miss Granger?"

"No," she snorted. "But that woman was no witch, I tell you!"

"It may interest you to know that such a thing does exist." He said silkily.

"What?"

"Though they are rare, non-magical witches and wizards are not unheard of. They fancy themselves sorcerers and pose as such, but they lack any real ability. Personally, I've always found the idea rather _ironic_; Muggles who aspire to be like us_ –_ humph!"

"But why?"

Snape considered the question carefully.

"Throughout history, Muggles have strived to understand magic. They endeavor to make themselves more open to its elements but as history as often shown us, those who aspire to be something they're not fall prey to the worst kind of servitude. Even the Dark Lord had Muggle supporters."

"Voldemort --- had Muggle followers??" Hermione said disbelievingly.

Snape reviled the use of his name with a sneer.

"A few … some might call them groupies. They kept him informed of Muggle happenings, something he felt was beneath his Death Eaters."

"Did they know how much he despised them … how much he wanted them dead?"

Snape chuckled.

"Don't be feeble! Of course, they didn't know. He used them like he used everyone else! They were puppets; disposable, ignorant, puppets! When they had outlived their usefulness … he killed them. DEAD men, tell no tales."

Hermione shivered over Snape's iciness. He was merely being honest but the hatred he harbored seeped through voice. She could only imagine the horrors he'd witnessed, the innocent blood spilled in the name of supremacy.

"No, I suppose not ..." she said, drawing into herself.

The pair followed the wizard for several blocks. Eventually, he led them to a corner hotel. Malfoy entered the establishment, unaware he was being tracked.

"We should go inside," Hermione suggested.

"What? No!" Snape spat.

"How are we supposed to keep tabs on him if we don't?"

"You really are new to this, aren't you?"

Hermione's eyes became slits.

"We should wait …" he said, looking around. "Over there!"

On the opposite side of the street was a sandwich shop with a big glass window.

"We can observe from that eatery." He said plainly.

Hermione seemed revolted by the rundown restaurant. What did they sell? Cockroach Ala Mode?

"But I don't have any money and you're …"

Snape arched his brow and looked down at the witch.

"I'm what?"

"Well … you're a little _overdressed_, Professor."

Now self-conscious, the wizard smoothed down his buttoned vest. Compared to everyone else he was rather roguish looking, definitely an outsider.

"Perhaps …," he sourly admitted. "But we have more pressing concerns at the moment. Right now, we need money. I have a few coins but no Muggle currency."

"Galleons?" She asked hopefully.

"Did you miss the part where I said ---"

"Professor, we can barter those! They're made of gold!" Hermione said excitedly. "Do you see that pawn shop over there? They'll buy the coins from you. Granted … at a lesser value but it's better than nothing."

Snape hedged for a moment.

"Or …" she amended, padding her chest thoughtfully. "I can sell my necklace."

Severus's face clouded with outrage. He never considered himself a chivalrous man but he was no lout!

"Miss Granger …" he darkly began. "It may be cold outside but I strongly suspect hell is still burning. That said, come on!"

Snape snatched the stunned Gryffindor by the hand and led her across the street.

* * *

Draco opened the squeaky door to his less than hospitable quarters and walked inside. The spacious room harbored one moth eaten bed, two lamps, one table and a nightstand but according to the clerk, it was the presidential suite.

"This place reeks," he gagged, gingerly removing his cloak and placing it over the bed.

Afterward, he settled atop his robe and gazed up at the stained ceiling. He wouldn't have to stay there long, just a few hours. His appointment was scheduled for six.

"Muggles are so … filthy."

* * *

Snape and Hermione exited the pawn shop fifty pounds richer.

"Not bad," the witch said optimistically.

"Not bad? Those coins were worth three times that much!"

"Supply and demand, Professor – supply and demand," she lectured.

Severus refrained from commenting.

"Say, why were carrying money anyway? Were you going somewhere today?"

The wizard continued his stroll, seemingly unaffected by the rude Muggles stealing glances of him as they passed. He was getting used to it now.

"Yes. I planned on visiting, Mister Goyle."

"Oh."

"And I still do, after we've figured out why Malfoy is consorting with Muggle witches and spending his days in risqué hotels. As their Head of House, it is my duty to keep an eye on them."

"Wait --- weren't you developing something for Gregory's infection?"

"The Headmistress doesn't seem to think Goyle is in any _immediate _danger and since he's in good hands, Draco is my primary concern. The antidote was simply to help speed his recovery."

Hermione nodded but inwardly, she was shaking her head. Beneath his cool exterior, Snape was committed to his Slytherins.

_That's sweet …_ she thought.

The duo entered the sandwich shop and found a booth with a view of the hotel. After much debate over the selection, they ordered their meal and waited. Minutes later, the waiter delivered two enormous pastrami sandwiches, a bowl of chips and two piping hot cups of tea in foam containers.

Snape observed his Hagrid-size serving doubtingly.

"How am I supposed to eat all this?" He complained.

"Slowly," Hermione said logically. "I have a feeling we're going to be here a while."

Severus ignored the witch's cheek and snatched several napkins. He gingerly placed the paper cloths across his lap and scowled over his meal once more. Had he known the portion was so gigantic, he would've opted for a salad. Using both hands, he carefully picked up one half of the sandwich and paused. When he looked up, he saw Hermione; the bus boy and the cashier gawking amusingly. They were anxious to see the reserved looking gent take a big chomp out of the meaty, onion riddled monstrosity.

Glaring at his audience, the wizard took a hearty bite of his sandwich and chewed robustly. "Happy?" he spat, frightening the onlookers with a scowl.

Hermione followed his lead but with more appreciation. The sandwich was hot, cheesy and oh so meaty.

"Mm, good …" she mumbled, savoring the taste of buttery onions and provolone.

Severus concealed his pleasure with a tempered smirk. He liked that the witch was enjoying herself. Apparently, she had a thing for unhealthy foods that would bring on fatty thighs and clogged arteries. Not that he had to worry about such things. He was a slim 28" and holding.

"Now … about my clothes," he said low enough that only Hermione could hear. "What do you suggest?"

The witch swallowed her bite. "Transfigure them," she offered.

The frown lines in Snape's face deepened.

"Oh dear … I do believe I have a genius in my mist. Why didn't I think of that?"

Hermione cut her eyes across the table. Just when everything was going so well, the venomous snake appeared and reared his abnormally large nose!

"I don't know, Professor --- why didn't you?" She shot back.

"Ah, let's see ... A.) I don't have the foggiest idea what to transfigure and B.) I detest assimilation. Let them stare," he bitterly finished.

Hermione blinked confusingly.

"Then why did you ask my opinion?"

"I merely wished to know your thoughts. Do you find me embarrassing?"

The wizard's tone was completely impassive. He may as well have been asking her to pass the salt.

"No … of course, not ---"she colored. "I just thought you might feel more comfortable --- honestly, Professor ... I don't care what anyone thinks."

Snape picked up his napkin and wiped his mouth. "Are you sure you told me everything that happened in the bookstore?" he said, changing the subject.

Hermione became distracted by the wizard's slender fingers. They grazed his lips so tenderly ... as if they had another, wholly different objective in mind. Instantly, the memory of the Professor running his hands all over her body popped into her mind. He made her feel so good … so very good.

When the witch didn't respond, Snape looked up. He quickly noticed she had an odd look on her face.

"Granger?"

"Hm?"

Severus bristled with annoyance.

"Is there something you'd like to tell me?"

_I want you ..._

"Uh … no, I've told you everything," she answered. "There's nothing else."

Snape would've gladly used Legilimens on the witch had she not been averting her eyes.

*Clang*

"I told you NOT to come back in here, didn't I?!" the cook roared from the back.

Snape, Hermione and a handful of patrons all turned around. Standing in the doorway was Katie.

_The mental … _Severus recalled.

The wild-haired woman toyed with her cuffs nervously.

"Um … yes, you did ..." she managed. "But I was … um, I was just hoping …"

"Oh, I see. You want some kind of hand out, is that it?! We don't do FREE here so unless you can pay, GET OUT!"

The wizard felt his stomach churn with fury. How dare he humiliate a disturbed woman that way?

Without thinking and before realizing it, Severus was on his feet and halfway across the room. Katie recognized the dark man honing in on her position and smiled brightly.

"Hi, love!"

The greeting was lost to the whoosh of the wizard's robes as he stormed by. "What are you having?" he hissed, removing several bills from his pocket. Severus slammed the money onto the counter and glared at the cook daringly.

"Anything will be fine," she shyly announced. "I'm not picky."

"She'll have what we're having," he said to the cashier.

The cashier took the stranger's money and rang the order up. Meanwhile, Hermione and the other patrons looked on in shock.

Snape glanced to and from the woman as the cashier counted back his change.

"Two and three makes ten," she said, placing the money carefully in his hand.

Snape offered the cook one last kill-glance before turning to the appreciative basket case.

"They should have your order up momentarily. Trust me, it's more than enough."

"Thank you," she beamed.

"Er -- you're welcome."

"Say, can I sit with you?" Katie boldly asked.

Snape was struck. "What?" he crudely blurted.

"Can I sit with you ... you and your lady friend? It's cold and rainy out and well … I hate eating alone."

_Lady friend?_

All at once, Snape remembered he had company. He glanced over to find her peering across the room with a dumbfounded expression.

Fuck.

"Well … Miss Katie, we're uh … we're …" he struggled.

"We would be happy to have you sit with us!" Hermione voiced from the booth.

Had Katie been looking elsewhere, Snape would have mouthed a few choice words to the witch.

"Fine, go ahead --- have a seat." He motioned.

Katie practically skipped to the table. She was very happy to be invited to sit with such a respectable couple.

"Hi, I'm Katie!" said the woman, scooting over so Severus could sit down.

Unhappy as ever, Snape plopped into the seat.

"Hi, I'm Hermione and this is ---"

"Professor Severus Snape," Katie proudly put forth.

Severus focused intently on his sandwich. He could feel the witch's eyes burning holes into his scalp.

"Uh … how --- how do you know the Professor?" She sputtered, earning herself a quick glance from the wizard.

"Granger …"

"We met this morning. He told me."

Hermione slowly glanced over but Snape was no longer looking up. He found he didn't like the onions anymore and was carefully removing them from his pastrami sandwich.

"He did, did he? What else did he tell you?"

Katie thought very hard. As she recalled, it wasn't a particularly long conversation.

"Not much, just that he was busy --- casing the bookstore, or so I guessed."

Though she desperately tried not to, Hermione couldn't resist snickering.

"Do you find something funny, Miss Granger?" Snape hissed.

Hermione cleared her throat.

"Oh, it's nothing … _Severus_."

The wizard's eye twitched.

_Did she just …? _

Katie glanced ignorantly between the sparring pair.

"So, how long have you two been … you know … going out? You seem like such a sweet couple."

Hermione and Severus glared at the frazzled woman with a look of astonishment before their mutual discomfort took them in different directions.

"Oookay dokie," said Katie, accepting their silence for trade. "So, where are you lads crashing? I mean you've got to be new. I've never seen you around here before and nobody just comes here to come here. If you're in Little Whales, it's because you have big problems or you're looking for big trouble."

"Little Whales? We're in Little Whales?" said Severus, recognizing the name by reputation.

"Where did you think you were, love?"

"Oh, we're just visiting," Hermione lamely explained.

Katie nodded.

"Do you need a place to stay? For the night, I mean."

"No, we're leaving as soon as we've concluded our _visit_." said Snape, put off by the idea that the woman could afford a flat but not a meal.

"Okay but if you change your minds, I have lovely spot picked out in Shamrock Alley. It's warm, it's dry and the pigeons don't shit there."

Severus dropped his plastic fork but before he could respond, the waiter approached with Katie's order.

"Here you go, Ma'am!" he said, offering the pretty girl a wink.

Katie made a show of winking back and graciously accepted her gigantic order.

"Ooh, it looks so good!" She exclaimed, clapping joyously.

Snape grinned despite himself. The sight of her excitement and Hermione's satisfaction was almost more than his small heart could bear. He wasn't accustomed to appreciation in any form.

Katie hungrily dug into her plate. She ate quickly and sloppily but it was understood that she hadn't eaten in a while, probably all day.

"Hm, this is sooo good!" she chomped, cramming few more chips into her overly stuffed mouth.

Sometime later, after several rounds of 'spot the tourist through the window', Hermione interrupted with a serious question.

"Um, Katie ... are you homeless?" She said delicately.

Snape looked at Hermione; Hermione looked at Katie and Katie looked at them both. Seconds later, she finished chewing and sucked her fingers clean.

"Nuh-huh --- I have a place. Like I said, it's in Shamrock Alley. I've lived there for almost five years."

"But … is it …?"

"A home??" Katie answered. "Well of course it is, love! It's the best home anyone could have. Its good living once you get used to the neighbors."

"And who are you neighbors?" Snape asked, jumping in.

"Scoundrels – the lot of em'! But you can't change people. People have to want to change. As long as no one steals my blanket, I'm a happy poppet!"

Hermione paused over her tea. "That's so sad …" she whispered.

Katie's smile slowly diminished. If she was sad she didn't know until then.

"Sounds like freedom to me," Severus interjected, warming the young woman's face.

"That's right, love. Freedom to go where I please, do as I please and feel as I please! To devil with all those rules! And don't tell me you've never gotten the urge to spit on em'? The rules that tell us how to act … how to think … how to live! Rules can just as easily damn your soul as quick as they can save it! " She said with a firm nod.

Hermione laughed and though Severus strongly disagreed, he couldn't help but grin.

"Well, I better be off. I've got a lot of walking to do before it gets dark. Don't want to be caught after light on these streets; no sir, have to keep moving."

Severus stood up and allowed the woman to exit.

"It was very nice to meet you," Hermione said.

"Oh, it was nice to meet you too. Maybe we'll see each other again," she smiled.

"Perhaps --" said Snape, refusing to look the woman in the eyes. He already knew what she didn't. They would never cross paths again.

Katie waved her friends goodbye and left the eatery with a full stomach and heart. They had been kind to her, very kind. Snape watched the woman leave before taking a weary seat.

"What an ordeal," he said with as much contempt as he could muster but Hermione wasn't fooled. "Would you please wipe that ridiculous simper off your face?" He gruffly followed.

"You know … for a moment there, I was jealous."

_Jealous?_

"Jealous?"

"That's right, love … I thought you had gone and found yourself a lady!" She teased.

Unbeknownst to the witch, Snape hated being teased. For that, he was more than ready to turn the table on the insufferable Gryffindor.

"Granger, I'm flattered. I never took you for the jealous type. Whatever did I do to deserve that kind of attention? It must have been that beautiful note I made you sing last night."

Hermione's entire face burst into red, hot flames. Severus tried to enjoy her embarrassment but he was hard pressed too. He was pretty sure the witch didn't take his joke as it was intended, a crude attempt to be witty.

"Excuse me, _sir_ but I have to use the loo," she said, calmly standing up.

The wizard's dark orbs followed Hermione out of her seat. Though he regretted what he said, he had no way of retracting it; not in the presence of Muggles anyway.

The witch brushed pass the table and walked unhurriedly towards the restrooms. Frustrated, Severus turned and scowled out of the window.

_Good job…_

* * *

Draco awoke from his nap and moved to the edge of the bed. It was nearly 5 o'clock and he had to prepare for his appointment. Standing up, he removed a second wand from his sleeve and placed it on the nightstand. Afterwards, he stood up; wrang out his wrinkled cloak, washed his face and combed his hair. Once presentable, the wizard sat back on the bed and observed the wand with a long question. Am I doing the right thing? Can and will this work?

The wizard's mind flashed over the shop keeper, Adrian and Lady Karkaroff. They all seemed to think he could do it but could he really? And if he succeeded, what then? His father would be fugitive from Britain and he, the disgraced son of a fugitive. More than likely, his whole family would become slaves to a new Mistress just as they had been slaves to Lord Voldemort. Was he ready to accept that? Was his father ready to accept that?

All Draco knew for certain was that Lucius Malfoy would die a horrible death if left to rot in that horrid prison. He had to try, if only to give his father some semblance of a life. Lucius Malfoy was an aristocrat and a pureblood, one of the few still remaining. He deserved better.

Draco carefully trained his wand. Over the next few moments, he summoned all the knowledge weeks of tutorship under Professor Sweetie had afforded him.

"Inner-Vitali-Lessio!" he commanded with a wave.

A burst of gold magic erupted from his wand and engulfed the black rod. It swirled and distorted the piece in a magnificent show of lavender light until finally, nothing remained but a plain silver ring.

Draco bared his pearly, white teeth in a show of glee and arrogance. He did it. He transfigured a supposedly untransfigurable object. Nothing was impossible!

"I'm coming …" he said, slipping on the ring.

* * *

**A/C: **Oooh, Sevy -- you stuck your foot in it, love! Whew, that felt like a long chapter. I will pick up on part 3 in a few days. If you have time, please check out my poll! Just click on my user name :)

Happy Thanksgiving!


	45. Weekend Holiday, Part III

Snape wiped the dew forming in the window and gazed at his semi-transparent reflection. Nearly thirty minutes had passed since Hermione announced she was going to the loo and he was getting antsy. The only thing keeping him from marching to the door and insisting that she come out was a small phobia regarding ladies lavatories and pride.

_Did she fall in? _He halfheartedly wondered.

As he waited, the wizard decided the quickest and easiest way to handle the situation was to apologize for his remark. He would not beg for her forgiveness but she deserved an apology. His comment was deliberate and vile, a direct blow to her budding sexuality. He hoped the witty jab would have shut her up but now he worried it might have shut her down.

_The last thing I need is an angry witch on my hands … _he reasoned, taking another long sip of his horrid tea.

"Any new developments?" asked Hermione, retaking her seat.

Severus spit his sip back into the cup and looked over.

"Er – no …"

"That's good. What time is it?"

The wizard kept a straight face but his thoughts were slowly forming into a question mark.

"After five," he answered.

Hermione responded with a polite eye-nod which threw the wizard for a complete loop. He was certain she was upset with him and if she wasn't, she ought to be but she was behaving as if nothing happened.

"Granger …" he hesitated. "Please accept my apology. My comment was inappropriate and ---"

Hermione crinkled her nose confusingly. "What did you say?" she innocently asked, interrupting him mid-apology.

*silence*

The wizard's mouth shrank, grew then shrank again. Forgiving his vast knowledge, he was completely befuddled. _What?_

"Yoo hoo, Professor??" she waved.

Severus settled into his foam cup speculatively. Though he found it difficult to believe that Granger wasn't upset, he had no desire to step back into the noose.

"Nothing … nothing at all," he said shortly.

Hermione directed her attention to the street outside. Seconds later, her eyes rounded.

"Look! He's leaving," she pointed. "Come on, let's go!"

Snape barely got a glimpse of the flaxen boy before he was snatched by the hand and pulled out of the booth. Within moments, the twosome was on the street and in pursuit.

Snape and Hermione followed Draco down the grey arena of abandoned warehouses and questionable stores. The rain had stopped but the humidity from hot underground channels produced small sprays of mist which made everything cold with dew. Combined with traces of open garbage, tobacco and the smell of beer from local pubs, Little Whales was shaping up to be a sewer of activity.

As twilight faded, hailing the street lamps and neon signs, the semi-despicable residents of the day were replaced with another, entirely different breed of Muggle hooligan.

"Stay close," Snape warned, clutching his partner's small hand. Hermione didn't think to object.

Together, the pair tracked Malfoy to an intersection with a red telephone booth.

* * *

"Hello, Ministry for Magic --- how may I help you?"

"I have an appointment."

"Your name and schedule please."

"Draco Malfoy, Azkaban Transit, 6:00 p.m." the wizard replied.

"Please hold while I confirm your request."

*Ministry caller music*

"Your request has been authenticated. Please standby."

Draco hung up the receiver, folded his hands neatly behind his back and stood up straight. Moments later, the booth unhitched and began to lower into the ground.

* * *

"What's happening? Where is he going?" asked Hermione.

"Guest entrance," Snape said plaintively.

Hermione rolled her head upward.

"Guest entrance --- to where?"

"The Ministry for Magic," he elaborated.

The Gryffindor was torn between confusion and disappointment. Though she didn't want to say it, things were just starting to get interesting.

As Malfoy vanished into the ground, an unmanned unit cycled down and replaced the occupied booth. Nearly a dozen Muggles were standing in view of the exchange but no one saw anything.

"We're done," Snape said to the witch.

Hermione scoffed. "Done? No! Let's follow him! We can use the tracking charm," she put forth.

"Did you not hear me? He has gone to the Ministry. We can't follow him there."

"Why not?"

"Because tracking charms are heavily frowned upon. Because Ministry business is legitimate business! Because neither one of us has an appointment, proper clearance or reason to enter. Because I still need to visit Goyle. Because you've been placed in enough danger and because I bloody well said so!"

In an act of frustration more than relevance, Hermione folded her arms and snorted.

"Why else?"

"Granger …"

"May I go with you?" She raced to amend.

"Go with me … to St Mungos? Are you daft? Do you not think that McGonagall will question your reason for being there and _me _for bringing you along?"

"I just want to see how Gregory is doing. I'm sure she'd understand if you vouched for me."

The Professor rolled on the ball of his foot and faced the witch.

"Why do you want see him? He's not in your House." He suspiciously inquired.

Hermione considered her answer carefully. Yes, she wanted to see Goyle for all the right reasons but she also wanted to steal a little more time with the wizard. His comment in the diner had challenged her feminine prowess and vindication was in order.

"I just do. He was nearly killed! Slytherin or not, he is still my schoolmate."

Snape idled for a moment.

_I'll have to lie like the devil … _he wagered.

"Please," Hermione pleaded.

"If you insist," he relented, silently dubbing the Gryffindor victor. "But we'll have to find a place to apparate."

Hermione studied the sidewalk in both directions. There were Muggles everywhere, including the nukes and crannies of the alleyways and bar entrances.

"Lead the way," she said, randomly selecting a direction.

* * *

Snape and Hermione carefully navigated the Muggle pedestrians for several blocks. A few men and women slowed to observe the odd looking pair but only a handful bothered with a second glance. Snape's dark persona blended well with the night goers. They all thought he was a street man; a gothic or some perverse clergyman perhaps, but definitely one of them.

"Father, will you hear my confession?" one woman asked as the Wizarding couple passed.

Snape couldn't resist stopping to scowl at the Muggle dressed in gold spandex.

"What?" he asked despite Hermione's tugs.

The harlot paused long enough to size up her customer and his wench. He looked like he had money, lots of money. He had too in order to afford such a pretty, young chit. Maybe just maybe she could score a few extra coins that night. She was into kink. She was into anything that paid.

"So Father, what's your fantasy?"

Snape offered the woman a strange, pensive look. He wasn't the least bit interested in painted harlot but he found her scent intriguing. She smelled like perfume and sex.

"Professor, let's go." Hermione said insistently.

The prostitute stepped forward.

"Don't rush off sweet cakes. I have a place just around the corner. For the right price, we can have a really good time."

"Piss off!" sneered Hermione, jerking the wizard so hard that he stumbled.

"Granger, would you please stop!" he hissed.

"I'll make you a right good deal – two for the price of one, unless your beau prefers to watch … that's fine too."

Hermione ballooned with indignation. "I would never!" She gasped.

"Don't be such a dud, honey. You might like it," said the prostitute, winking at a potential customer passing by.

"Sir …"

"We're going," Snape answered, leading the hex-ready witch down the sidewalk.

Once they were far enough away, Hermione rounded on the wizard.

"I can't believe you didn't say anything!"

Severus opened his mouth to speak but the words weren't there.

"Is that what you like ---nasty, do-me-now, anytime, anyway sort of women?"

Snape's scowl was preposterous. "DON'T be absurd!" he yelled.

"Okay then, why did you stop? Why didn't you just keep walking?"

"Because she called me FATHER! I'm not old enough to be any woman's _father _--- least of all yours!"

Hermione combated his excuse with an eye roll.

"Furthermore, I don't appreciate your _TONE_. I was stunned into silence!"

"Bah!" She broke. "I refuse to believe that Professor Severus Snape, the terror of Hogwarts, was unnerved by whore!"

The phrase 'unnerved by a whore' knocked the wizard for a six. He was tempted to scold the witch right there but they were attracting enough attention as it was.

"Did you see me remove my purse? Or hint at an offer?" He coolly put forth. "Did I inquire after the proposition or turn to you with a hopeful maybe?"

Hermione shrugged.

"Er – no … but you did tell me to stop."

"Yes – to stop wrenching my arm! You seemed intent on dragging me to the ground!"

Hermione gripped her hips and glared into the wizard's eyes. Right then, she wished like hell she had taken Harry up on his offer to teach her legilimens. If she knew legilimency, she wouldn't have to rely on her instincts for guidance. Was he attracted to the prostitute? Did he find her offer appealing? Was he telling the truth when he said he only stopped because she unknowingly insulted him?

Hermione hedged between white hot suspicion and curiosity for several moments. When she realized her accusation made less sense than the wizard's explanation, she softened. She didn't want to admit it, but the Professor was right. He didn't do anything wrong.

Damn.

Now anxious, the highly skilled legilimens slipped into the witch's thoughts as easily as a draft into a corridor. He was first struck and appalled by her suspicions but after witnessing her small concession regarding his innocence, he grew uncommonly smug.

Severus moved forward, sifting through Hermione's thoughts like sand. It wasn't long before he snagged a glimpse of the forced visual brought on by the prospect of her sexing him and another woman. His jerking reaction barely registered to the outside world but inside he was aglow with lusty appreciation.

"Fine," Hermione surrendered, inadvertently breaking the link. "Let's just go."

Snape swallowed. "After you," he thickly agreed.

* * *

Minerva waited outside of Goyle's chambers for the physician to finish his nightly examination. More than two weeks had passed since Gregory was admitted and though he had improved, the young man was far from recovered. The tears in his neck refused to heal and the peculiar infection was keeping him bed ridden. Still, survivors were rare and Goyle was lucky to have made it at all.

Minerva stopped reading and rubbed her tired brow. She halfheartedly listened to the light rain beating against the window as she aimed at improving her less than starry mood with a mental pep talk. It had been a cold, miserable day and she was beginning to feel the weight of her long visit.

Exhaling a breath, she looked over and observed Samantha Goyle's empty seat with wry frown. The witch departed hours ago to prepare for a dinner in honor of a nameless visitor. It wasn't Minerva's place to criticize the woman's mothering skills but she had a difficult time understanding how and why it was so important!

_No need to fuss,_ she thought returning to her book.

When Goyle was first hospitalized, McGonagall accepted the responsibility of explaining what happened to everyone who needed to know which included a heartfelt apology to Samantha. She desperately felt the wife of an imprisoned Death Eater and mother to a wounded son, deserved no less. Samantha's response was gracious but indifferent, something McGonagall found incredibly disturbing. If she didn't know better, she would have thought the woman was somehow disappointed.

"There are worse fates than death," she morosely offered, stunning the Headmistress in their first conversation.

Samantha visited her son every morning except on Sundays. McGonagall, however, stayed around the clock, unwilling to leave the Slytherin's bedside until she was certain he would make a full recovery.

Minerva broke from her novel and glanced at the old timey clock on the wall. It was nearly 7:00 and she was getting hungry. She considered swinging by the hospital cafeteria but she loathed the food there. It was always so bland and mushy.

"Headmistress?" a familiar voice said.

Minerva adjusted her glasses and looked over to find Adrian Torres trotting down the dimly lit corridor. "Professor …? What are you doing here?" She said surprisingly.

"I came to see how Gregory was doing," she answered.

"Didn't the staff receive my owl?"

"Yes, of course but I wanted to see for myself. How are you holding up?"

Minerva offered up a brave simper.

"Oh, I'm fine – you needn't be concerned about me. How is everything at Hogwarts?"

"The same," Torres lied. "As you know, mid-year exams are swiftly approaching."

"Well, with any luck I should be back before then."

Adrian cracked an uncomfortable smile. "Have you eaten?" she asked, changing the subject.

"I ate something this morning. I'm afraid the hospital has me on a strict diet of tea and crumpets. It seems to be the only edible thing they offer," Minerva joked.

"Ah … well then, what do you say to dinner at Corvelles?"

The Headmistress frowned.

"Professor, you only just arrived. Don't you wish to see Goyle first?"

Adrian twitched.

"Yes, of course I do … but if you're out here then Goyle must be unable to receive visitors. I thought we'd grab a bite to eat and you could fill me in on the medical details."

Minerva considered the witch's offer for a moment. She was rather hungry and she didn't know how long the physician would be … still, she felt a twinge of guilt over the idea of 'going out' to dinner.

"Corvelles is close by. We should be back in an hour," Torres added.

McGonagall hesitated once more.

"I – I don't know. I want to be here when the healer finishes," she lightly protested.

Adrian placed her hand on the Headmistress's and smiled. "It's only an hour," she comforted. "You need to eat something. You look dreadful!"

Minerva pretended to scowl. "Well, alright – but we must be back before he leaves. I want to hear his latest prognosis." She said standing up.

Torres agreed and led the witch down the semi-busy hallway. Once they were outside, Adrian took the Headmistress's arm and escorted her down the sidewalk. Admittedly, Minerva found this a bit strange but she didn't think to question it aloud.

The witches took a shortcut through the hospital park towards the community district where the eateries and get well boutiques were located.

"They need better lighting out here," McGonagall observed as they walked along the dark, stone bridge connecting the two halves of the park.

Torres looked around seemingly distracted.

"Is something the matter?" asked the Headmistress.

"Matter? What could be the matter?"

"Oh, I don't know … you just seem a little tense. Please don't tell me that my Professor for Defence is afraid of the dark!" She teased.

Adrian laughed softly.

When the pair was far enough away, she stopped and turned to McGonagall.

"Afraid, no … very sorry, yes," she answered.

Minerva scoffed. "My dear, what on earth are you …" she trailed, noticing several hooded men emerging from the dark.

"What's going on?" She asked, reaching for her handle.

"Don't do anything rash!" Adrian warned. She didn't want to see the Headmistress hurt.

The old Gryffindor aimed her wand at her assailants, all of whom had their wands trained on her.

"_Traitor_ …" she hoarsely whispered to the worried witch at her side.

*Blast! Blast! Blast!*

The night opened and closed with several flashes of red magic, lasting mere seconds. When the fight was over, Minerva McGonagall rested unconscious on the park grass.

* * *

Snape and Hermione walked hurriedly down the dimly lit corridor of Goyle's wing. They had been instructed by the staff nurse not to enter his chambers until the healer was finished with his nightly examination. When they arrived, the pair took a seat outside the door and waited.

A short while later, the sickly gloominess of the hospital made Hermione fidget with discomfort.

"Granger, do you mind?" said Snape to the squirmy witch.

"Sorry … it's just so ... depressing here."

Snape arched his brow and looked down.

"Were you expecting tea? Or perhaps, cake?"

Hermione grinned despite herself. "Point taken," she answered.

Moments later, the healer exited Goyle's room. He was so preoccupied with his chart that he failed to notice the new visitors and walked ahead.

"Excuse me," Snape said quickly, rising from his seat.

The young physician whirled around. "Huh ... yes," he answered.

"We are here on Mister Goyle's account. My name is, Severus Snape. I am his teacher and Head of House. May I speak with you?"

"Oh – um, yes of course. I am Dr. Joseph Evander, the chief healer on call. It's a pleasure to meet you. "

Snape offered the young man a curt nod. "Doctor," he said respectfully.

Hermione observed the handsome physician with a girly smile. The shaggy blonde had a strong chin and winning smile reminiscent of Gilderoy Lockhart, a former crush.

"How is he doing?" the wizard asked, cutting to the chase.

"Better. Better. However, I'm afraid the infection has a strong hold on the boy. Also, the wounds on his neck have yet to heal. They don't appear to be responding to treatment."

Snape grunted. "How is that better?" he snarked, earning himself an elbow to the side.

Evander offered the pair a brilliant smile which made Severus more weary than hopeful. He didn't trust men who smiled too much. It usually meant they were hiding something.

"Well for starters, he's alive. Moreover, we're confident that we will be able to treat his condition. It's just a matter of time."

"Why haven't his wounds healed?" Snape continued. "Is that common with vampire bats? Is he bleeding?"

"Uh … no – no," the healer stuttered.

"How high is his fever? Does he have a rash?"

"105 degrees and no ---"

"Is he conscious? Responsive? Is he aware of what's going on?"

"Mister Snape …"

"That's _Professor_," Severus corrected. If he had to address him as 'Doctor', then he would have to address him properly too.

"_Professor _Snape," Evander coughed. "Please trust that we're doing everything we can to make Mister Goyle comfortable and to ensure his well being. We anticipate a full recovery once ---"

"Once you've figure out what is _actually _going on," the Potions Master rudely finished.

Hermione, having lost control of the wizard early on, stepped forward.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Evander. We trust that you're doing everything possible. We're just concerned," she assured.

Snape refrained from correcting the Gryffindor but he was anything but sure. He found something troubling about the handsome healer, more troubling than the devils responsible. And why the hell was she being so nice?

Evander rewarded his savior with a dashing smile.

"Thank you, Miss …?"

"Granger, Hermione Granger." She answered.

Snape's mood only blackened when he noticed the Gryffindor was blushing.

"May we see him?" Severus asked, not taking his eyes off the witch.

"Yes, of course … please go in," Evander said.

Snape hooked his hand possessively around Hermione's arm and escorted her into Goyle's chamber.

"Professor –"she laughingly protested. She found his ungentlemanly-like conduct more embarrassing than funny but she thought it best not to show it.

_What's your problem,_ she thought.

"Please sit down," he ordered, closing the door behind.

Scowling, the witch obeyed.

Snape slowly approached his pupil's bed. Gregory's neck was completely bandaged and he looked very pale but otherwise, he seemed normal.

"He's resting peacefully," Snape needlessly announced.

The wizard removed the specially prepared elixir from his robes. Hopefully, it would help more than the healer's commercial crap.

"Professor," Hermione said in hushed tone. "Maybe you shouldn't. What if he has a reaction?"

"At least that would something, wouldn't it? The boy is practically comatose! He's far worse than McGonagall led me to believe in her owl, far worse!"

Hermione shot out of her seat and over to the bed. She winced when she got a good look at the Slytherin. Admittedly, he looked like warmed over death.

"Maybe she didn't want to worry you. She knows how you are."

Snape snorted ignorantly. "And HOW am I?" he asked while inspecting the boy's neck.

The injury reminded him of his, only worse. There would definitely be scarring.

"Thoughtful," Hermione said unflinchingly.

The wizard glanced up but only for a second. The fact that she thought he was 'thoughtful' warmed his heart. He wasn't an affection man but he did care about his students (some students) more than he was willing to admit.

"Humph," he gruffly replied, brushing off the sentiment for comfort's sake.

"Perhaps, you should give the potion to Dr. Evander and let him decide what's best."

Snape's face became terrible. "No!" he snapped. "I don't trust him!"

"Don't trust or don't like?" Hermione shot back.

"Both!"

The witch threw her hands in the air. She was getting tired of arguing with him. Why was he so difficult?

"Fine, do whatever you want!"

Snape stood upright and tapped his foot impatiently. "This potion may or may not cure his infection but it can't make things any worse," he staunchly defended.

Hermione knew the wizard was brilliant and if anyone could help, it would be him but she also knew if something went awry, he would blame himself.

"I …" she began but stopped.

Sighing, the Gryffindor glanced over the Slytherin's corpse-like body and grimaced. The fact remained that if he didn't do something and Goyle didn't improve or worse, he died, Snape would blame himself anyway.

"Do it. But hurry up before someone walks in," she said decidedly.

Severus popped the cap and tucked his hand under Goyle's head. He lifted the wizard in a semi-erect position and held the bottle to his bluish lips.

"I need you to drink," he gently coaxed, pouring the purple liquid in his mouth.

Two or three sips later, the wizard began to cough.

"_Shh_ … _Shh_, it's okay …" he soothed. "Keep going. Easy … easy now…"

Goyle managed a few more gulps before his preservation instincts kicked in and he outright refused to drink anymore. Snape gently laid the boy back down and recapped the bottle.

"It may take time …" he told the witch, observing the Slytherin grimly but tenderly.

When Snape looked up he saw the witch's eyes were shining. He didn't know why but he was pretty sure she was cooking up some half-baked, sentimental notion about him.

"Odd ... I wonder where the Headmistress is. She should have been here when we arrived," he noticed, changing direction.

Hermione snapped too.

"Um, I don't know – but you're right."

"Maybe that's too our favor. Granger do you mind waiting outside for a few moments? I'd like to …" he said uncomfortably.

"Oh, yes, of course – you probably need a moment alone. I'll be just outside the door if you need me."

Snape nodded.

"Oh, and Hermione," he added, posing over the witch's given name.

The gesture did not go unnoticed or appreciated.

"Yes?" She smiled.

"Don't talk to Evander."

With a scoff, the witch waved the wizard off and exited.

_Unbelievable ..._

* * *

**A/C:** I know this weekend is shaping up to be a long one but I have one more insert coming. Thanks for reading!


	46. Back to Hogwarts

Hermione and Severus exited the hospital a bit grayer than when they arrived. The sight of Goyle's sickened state had a sobering effect on both their psyches.

"Did you see or speak to the Headmistress?" Snape asked as they wandered out of the front entrance into the Muggle-filled street.

"No ... funny that. I didn't see Dr. Evander either," she answered. "To be honest, I found it a little strange."

"Strange or disappointing?" he corrected, miffed by the possibly.

Hermione shot the moody wizard a sideways glance. Severus pretended not to notice it but an unexpected twitch gave him away.

"I meant that I found it strange that Evander chose to address himself as 'Doctor' and not Healer."

Snapepaused long enough to observe the witch's point. Yes, it was a peculiar title for a wizard but he hadn't thought about it until then. Being half-Muggle, he recognized the heading but there were many wizards who might not.

"I also found it strange that McGonagall wasn't there," she added.

"I'm sure she's around somewhere. Perhaps, she returned to the community district. She stated in her owl that she was rooming at Castleberry Inn."

"Really – where is the community district? We should go visit her --- or rather, you should. I can remain in the lobby."

"The hotel is located across from the courtyard on the other side of the hospital park but we needn't disturb her at this hour. In all likelihood, she is resting."

"Mm– you're probably right. I imagine bed sitting an ailing student all day, everyday can get rather tiresome. Say, what time is it?"

Snape made a screwball face and looked down.

"That is the second time you have inquired after the time, Miss Granger – do you have somewhere more pressing to be?"

"No – you said something about – _this hour_. I was just curious."

"It's nearly curfew. I need to get you back to Hogwarts," he staunchly replied.

"Why --- I mean what's the hurry? Can't we just walk for a while? It's been such a hectic day," Hermione yawned. "I need to unwind."

"My powers of leniency only extend so far, Miss Granger. You do not have permission to be off grounds and I do not have the power to give you that 'said' permission. Lest you forget, you're a Gryffindor."

Hermione smiled.

"I read once that if a student is accompanied by a staff member, it is at the digression of the accompanying party to make that 'said' decision."

Snape sighed annoyingly.

"I would not want Professor Sweetie to worry."

"He won't. I have a note!"

Snape paused and hooked right. "You told him where you were going?" he asked incredulously.

Hermione let out a ridiculous scoff.

"No! Of course not! I told him I had a sick Aunt and I wanted to visit her. You didn't think I would wander off grounds without permission did you?"

"No, I suppose not but you could've mentioned that before now," he said, ruffling his shoulders. "Still, my --- _our_ work is finished. We should return ---"

"I just thought we'd take the scenic route," Hermione wedged. "Apparating makes me ill. Honestly, I don't think I have the stomach for it."

"Are you proposing that we walk?"

Hermione smiled absurdly.

"King Station isn't very far from here – we can hop a ride."

Instantly, the corners of Snape's mouth twitched. Moments later, the harsh lines surrounding them curved into a rare show of mirth.

"Take the Hogwarts Express? Interesting … now, why did I not think of that? Ah – maybe because it only boards four times a year, more if the Headmistress deems it, but somehow I doubt it will run for two strays too sickly to apparate! Granger, how self-important of you," he softly chuckled.

Hermione's face became red as roses. Now that she thought about it, the idea did sound a bit pretentious.

"Ahem … fine – the Knight Bus?"

Snape stagnated … _the Knight Bus_?

He had never traveled on the infamous coach but he, like everyone else in the Wizarding World, was aware of its existence and purpose. Supposedly, it served as emergency transport for stranded witches and wizards. Snape cuffed the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

"If we must," he sorely replied, secretly musing over the train suggestion.

Somewhat unsure of herself, Hermione stepped off of the curb onto the street and raised her wand. Amazingly, that's all it took. Seconds later, the purple triple-decker appeared in the distance. Like a jagged bolt of lightning, it ripped and swerved through the busy intersection until it reached the surprised looking duo, then slammed on breaks. The automatic doors squeaked opened and a scruffy looking man in a tatty, purple uniform exited the bus.

"Hello! Welcome to the Knight Bus. My name is Stan Shunpike and I will be your conductor this evening," he proudly announced.

Snape eyed the green-tooth wizard curiously while Hermione did her best not appear appalled. He seemed vaguely familiar but Severus couldn't place his face.

Without looking, Stan motioned to the driver.

"The strapping, young lad behind men is Ernie Prang. He will be attending to all your driving needs. And the talking tool, hanging from the rear view mirror – is Bernie."

The shrunken head frowned deeply. "Hey, ma'n – no need for name call-in'," he said.

Stan adjusted his britches and looked between the patrons expectantly.

"Um, yes …" Hermione said doubtfully. "We need a ride to Scotland – Hogwarts to be more specific. Can you take us there?"

"We can go almost anywhere you pay us as long as it's on land. Two galleons will take you as far as Hogsmeade."

"Hogsmeade? Why can't we go directly to the school?"

The conductor gave an indignant sniff.

"We got a bad flat after dropping off that tosser, Harry Potter a few years back. Now, we don't go to the school on account the area ain't fit for automobiles."

"Humph, Potter," Snape grumbled, suddenly noticing that the driver had dozed off. That by itself was a bad sign. Scowling, he curved to the witch beside him. "Are you sure about this? We could fly."

Stan overheard the wizard and glanced back to see what the greasy git was thumbing his nose about.

"Ernie! No sleeping on the job – we've got customers!" he shouted. Startled by the rude awakening, the old man sat up and looked around.

"Professor, I hate flying almost as much as apparating. Let's just pay the man and go," she said.

Grimacing with uncertainty, the wizard removed two galleons and slammed the money in the conductor's greedy hand. As far as he was concerned, it was a waste of gold and time. He was an adept wizard of plentiful means. They did not need the Knight Bus of all things!

Stan offered the duo a toothy grin and stepped aside.

"Welcome aboard!"

* * *

_Two Hours Earlier…_

*Bam, Bam*

"Your time is up!" the watchman informed.

"I'll be out in a few minutes," Draco hissed.

Grinning pompously, the guard peeked through the window of the visitor's chamber at the flaxen wizard cradling his shoulders uncomfortably. It was easy to see that the boy, like his mother, was not accustomed to such airy conditions.

"You have two minutes," the guard said haughtily.

Draco refrained from saying anything nasty. He had no influence beyond the galleons he had paid the Ministry officials to get in; something the Warden found most upsetting, considering he was not included in on the take. For that reason, the wizard's safety was his own problem and without a wand, that was a huge problem.

"Father, I have to go --- do you need anything else?" he asked.

A very thin, sedate looking Lucius Malfoy gazed emptily across the visitor's table. Apart from the standard inquiries about his mother and school, he hadn't said much that evening. He was a zombie, a shell of the esteemed wizard the boy knew and respected.

"No … nothing," he absently replied.

Draco took a deep breath and removed his ring. "Do you understand? Do understand what to do?" he whispered, passing it gently across the table.

Lucius observed the shiny piece of jewelry with an odd, flagrant expression. He understood the boy's words but did not comprehend his meaning. Months of prison life had broken him. He no longer cared for anything or anyone. He no longer prayed for a reprieve or longed for an escape. His life was over. Whatever conversation they exchanged was born of practice, not reason. It no longer mattered whether his son or wife came to visit. It no longer mattered whether he lived or died. Nothing mattered anymore.

Lucius took the ring and slipped it on. "Of course," he replied, only half-aware of what he was agreeing too.

"I will see you soon, Father … very soon. Everything is going to be as it once was, you'll see."

The elder wizard did not respond. He simply observed his son through a veil of grey apprehension.

Draco slowly stood and turned away. "I'm ready," he hoarsely announced, refusing to look upon his dishonored father any longer.

The door quickly unlatched and opened. "Bout time," said the guard.

With a contemptuous scowl, Draco rushed passed the unkempt man and courageously sauntered down the dimly lit corridor. He ignored the onslaught of catcalls and pleas as he passed dozens of prisoners beckoning for help. There was nothing he could or would to do for any of them. They were hooligans, nameless criminals. In all probability, they deserved this misery – his father did not. They could all rot in Azkaban for all he cared.

* * *

Shaken and a bit nauseous, a thankful Severus exited the Knight Bus. Hermione wasn't far behind, leaping from the steps onto the ground. She too was thankful that they would finally come to a safe and complete stop.

"Remember, we're available anytime you need us," the conductor said cheerfully, musing over the couple's state of disarray.

The witch was doing her best to stand but her wobbly knees would not cooperate and the wizard … well, he wasn't fairing much better. To his credit, he put on a good show but his skin looked a shade or two more sallow than it did when they boarded.

"Leave," he darkly managed, his hand twitching with readiness. One wrong word and he was going to Crucio the lot!

"Good night," Stan bided, slamming the door shut so the irate wizard could not reach him.

Ernie shifted the bus into gear and sped away, disappearing into a cloud of dirt and laughter. Snape turned to the woozy Gryffindor and sneered. That was the last time he'd ever ride the Knight Bus.

"It's late, come on."

Hermione cradled her stomach and followed the Professor down the narrow streets of Hogsmeade. Together they trekked through the wizarding village, passing several darkened stores and bakeries along the way. The Three Broomsticks was the only place still open but it too was beginning to show signs of fatigue. As they walked, they observed several drunkards on their way home.

"Thank you," Hermione quietly interjected.

Snape arched his brow and looked over. The sudden burst of gratitude caught him off guard.

"For?"

"Well ... for coming with me," she said awkwardly. "I understand why you did it but I'm still thankful you were there. I think we got a lot more accomplished together."

"I would've gotten a lot more accomplished alone but I can't deny that you helped."

Hermione opened her mouth to object but after a sudden wave of nausea, shut it again. Harry wasn't kidding when he said the Knight Bus was like riding a broomstick upside through a hailstorm.

Moments later, she tried again.

"At least we proved Draco is up to no good."

Snape hesitated. He was more curious than ever to know what the boy was up too but he was not convinced that he was in league with Adrian. Nor was he satisfied that his extracurricular activities were dishonorable. When it related to his students, he was always willing to give them the benefit of the doubt; however, should any of them prove disappointing, they would forever lose his trust.

"We proved nothing." He calmly replied.

Hermione swelled with disbelief. "Nothing? How can you say that? You saw where Malfoy was! He is clearly up to something. Why else would he be consorting with Muggle witches? I mean its Draco for Heaven's sake! He hates Muggles! What's more, he isn't the type of wizard to go _slumming_!" She snorted.

Severus resisted the urge to reply. He wondered what the Gryffindor might think if she knew, she was indeed _slumming _as they spoke. He, himself, was born to a meager home; a place he dwelled even now. The Muggle he called father, was an uneducated man of limited means and his witch-mother was the simple wife of a simple brute. He had very little back then and now that he thought about it, very little had changed.

"We already know that he lied to you, that he did not go to see his mother; that in fact, he snuck into the Ministry using the visitor's entrance! How much more proof do we need?"

Snapestole a hooded glance. "Granger …" he said silkily. "Don't be so quick to judge. I admit, it's suspicious but again, we have no proof. It's all circumstantial."

Hermione suddenly lost her focus and stumbled, prompting the wizard to grab her arm.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes … yes, I'm fine." She nodded.

Naturally, Snape didn't believe her but rather than argue, he carefully released her arm and allowed her to take the lead. Neither party said very much as they braved the bitter night air. Severus was used to the cold, more so than Hermione and showed little sign of fatigue but as they approached the midway point, she was forced to stop. Snape wasn't pleased with the delay but he indulged the witch.

"Still, woozy?"

"My toes … and ears … are frozen," she shivered.

"Ah – well, a warm fire will remedy that," he said as a matter-of-factly. "The sooner we get back to Hogwarts, the sooner you will be able to return to your House."

Snape didn't know it but Hermione had no desire to return to Gryffindor. They had so much to discuss, so much left unsaid the previous night. Had he forgotten?

"Ahem … Professor," she said hesitantly.

Snape's body language replied with an impatient, what.

Hermione gazed into the wizard's black orbs, the same dark pools that showed immeasurable passion a mere 24 hours ago; the same eyes that showed no trace of longing now.

"Yes?" he pressed.

The Professor was a private man, the beacon of piousness to the outside world. He wasn't the sentimental type, even towards his own so maybe what happened between them meant nothing. Maybe she missed the opportunity to impress him. After all, she hadn't offered anything in return, not even a kiss afterwards.

Hermione focused intently on her toes. "Professor …" she began again.

Snape folded his arms and glared at the witch. Not only was he a private man, he was also an impatient one.

"Granger." He mocked.

Hermione looked up. As soon as she did, her eyes became the size of boulders.

'_Mr. Filch,'_ she intoned, suddenly noticing the old squib atop the lookout.

Curious to know what the witch mumbling about, Severus circled around and spotted a figure in the distance. Mr. Filch was leaning over the bridge, scanning the grounds for rule breakers.

Technically, they weren't doing anything wrong but he didn't feel like explaining that to anyone, least of all Argus. Very few people realized it but the old-timer had a fifthly mind.

"We'll go through the dungeons," he said, snatching the Gryffindor by the wrist. "There's an emergency exit behind the North Tower."

"Wait – an emergency exit? I've never heard of an emergency exit!" She protested.

"It's charmed. For the safety of the students, it is not something we 'staff' advertise. Otherwise, everyone would use it."

"Oh – I suppose that makes sense but what if there is an emergency?"

"The charm is designed to break in the event of a fire or some other catastrophe. Presently, only Slytherin Prefects are privy to its whereabouts so I will have to _trust _you not to tell your idiot cohorts."

The Gryffindor scowled deeply.

Snape led Hermione across the grounds towards the North Tower. When they reached the hidden door, he tapped his wand on the stone and a small, wooden arch appeared. The stairwell descended underneath the tower and the first floor. It eventually snaked into an unused portion of the dungeons.

Once they were out, Severus resealed the entrance.

"I should go with you," Hermione whispered.

"Me? Go with me where?" Snape said confusingly.

"We should return to your office so I'll have an alibi if someone sees me. You can say I'm serving Saturday detention … or something."

The wizard observed the Gryffindor suspiciously. The idea was just logical enough to pass as sensible but there was something in her tone that made him uneasy.

"Very well …" he replied, unable to think of a better alternative. "But only for a short while."

Smirking, Hermione followed the Professor to his office. _Ten points to Gryffindor,_ she thought.

With a flick of his wrist, Snape unwarded his office door and politely stepped aside. "Go ahead," he ordered.

Hermione accidentally brushed the wizard as she passed, allowing him a whiff of her scent. Had she been paying attention, she might have caught the look of heat in his eyes.

_No – _he told his loins.

"Sit down," Snape said with more force than he intended. "I mean – have a seat by the fire and warm your feet." He corrected.

Hermione found a small, cushioned stool by the hearth and sat down. It was the most comfortable thing in the room apart from his swivel chair which she didn't dare sit in.

Snape's office was wrought with books and creepy, crawly things in jars but there was little furniture apart from his desk. The few seats he possessed were rickety and unbalanced, except for his chair of course. Hermione assumed the lack of seating was his way of getting rid of unwanted company faster.

"Tea?" the wizard offered.

Hermione nodded emphatically. "Yes, please. Anything to take the chill off," she said.

Snape nodded and disappeared into the back. His quarters were adjacent to his office, which was where he kept a personal stash. Elvedon tea was exceptionally good but he didn't want to alert anyone, not even Olivia, to the Gryffindor's presence.

As Severus prepared their beverages, his mind focused intently on the witch next door. She hadn't commented on the previous night, which in part, was a great relief to him. He simply hoped it wasn't a situation where she was trying to forget the whole thing. How devastating would that be? Severus's gut told him, no – that Hermione left satisfied the night before and from what little he understood about women, gratification was half the battle; or so, Slytherin females always implied.

In fact, if it weren't for his Slytherin sensibilities, which kept insisting he was a damned fool for getting himself involved with a Gryffindor her age, the lustful image of her wanting him again might have flowed more freely … perhaps more believably.

Minutes later, Severus returned with two, piping hot cups of Early Grey.

*Clang!*

Befuddled, the wizard dropped his tray, shattering the porcelain tea cups into a million pieces. The hot liquid rolled across the stone, creating a sultry ambiance of steam.

Fully nude, Hermione turned away from the hearth and faced the Professor. Rather than give him the opportunity to object, she took advantage of his shock and made her way across the room. Slowly, she closed the distance between their bodies, praying that she didn't faint from the mass amount of adrenaline pumping through her veins.

Snape remained frozen to the floor, too enamored with the witch's nakedness to speak. The only part of his body capable of movement was his eyes which he used to admire her breasts, thighs and hips.

Hermione displayed no fear as she approached the stunned but intrigued wizard.

"Gran --- _Hermione_," he strained.

Hermione smiled over the use of her name. It sounded so good on his lips.

"Shh," she replied, nervously reaching for his buttons.

Memorized, Severus watched the anxious witch work. He knew they were about to pass the point of no return but something inside wouldn't allow him to move. He didn't give a flip about right or wrong, Minerva or his job at that moment. He didn't want to stop her. He couldn't stop her. She was wielding a type of power that was quickly reducing him to ashes. Only one question mattered. How could he ever stop himself after this?

"Hermione …" he tried.

"If you tell me no, I will stop." She said, desperately searching his face for any trace of doubt.

The wizard attempted to speak but the blood in head had migrated south. He couldn't think.

"I …" he hesitated.

"I want this … I want _you_. Please don't send me away ... not now, not tonight. I will do anything you ask … everything you want – just share this with me. _Please_."

In less time than it took to blink, the dark wizard regained his trademark composure and with a single word, he spoke decibals.

"Bedroom."

* * *

**A/C:** Thanks for reading. I will do my best not to keep folks waiting.


	47. Sating the Serpent

Hermione and Severus took turns battling for oral dominance as they made their way to his bed chamber. By the time they reached his room, Hermione had already unfastened half his buttons and removed his knotted tie. When she wasn't busy trying to strip his clothes off, she was running her hands through his pliable hair. Despite its greasy appearance, it wasn't all that bad.

Snape was astounded by her eagerness to touch him and willingness to be touched by him. He had only shared the pleasure of a woman's company a few times in his life but never so wantonly. He returned her fervor by exploring every inch of her succulent skin; leaving no region untouched, including the silky folds between her legs. He found her cunt slippery with arousal as he inserted one, then two fingers in a mock-preview of things to come. Hermione eagerly and greedily accepted him.

"More … more," she said, bouncing off his light stroke.

Smirking, the Professor ceased his assault and redirected his attention. He captured Hermione's breast and admired it for several long seconds. Her breasts were neither too small nor too large and the areoles were the perfect shade of mauve. Growling, Severus leaned forward and slowly inhaled her flesh. From there, he gently suckled her nipple which sent Hermione into a cooing frenzy. The sound of her voice overpowered his desire to be gentle and before too long, he was sucking her tit like a starving brat.

Hermione couldn't deny that she liked it a little rough but Merlin, he was insatiable. It felt like he was devouring her body. The wizard slipped his hand back between Hermione's thighs and sighed wickedly. Hermione paid no attention to his wail until she felt him flick her clit.

"Oooh ..." she slipped.

A short time later, the witch was bucking to his ministration like a puppet on a string.

"_You bastard_!" She ranted.

Severus was still sucking her nipple when he looked up.

_A bastard - am I?_

Snape released her breast and finished the novice off by cleaning the honey from his fingertips. The sight of him shamelessly tasting her, made the witch quiver.

"On the bed," he hissed.

On his order, Hermione sprawled out onto the mattress. The bed was like everything else in his room, standard. Nothing extravagant, nothing ornate; no silk thread quilts or feathery pillows, just ordinary. Still, the idea that she was now lying on the same bed he slept every night made it special ... kinky, even.

Hermione circled her hips like a cat in heat. "More," she said to the man unbuttoning his sleeves.

Hearing this, Snape paused. Although he had imagined her this way many, many times since their first encounter; her wantonness, her desire for him was still difficult to comprehend. Had the blood supply to the wizard's brain been more adequate, he may have stopped to consider the witch's mental state but as luck would have it; his loins had seized control of his senses. Hermione's lustiness was forcing him to unprecedented discomfort. He couldn't recall ever being this hard.

Severus resumed undressing and untied his boots. He worked as quickly as he could but it seemed that nothing wanted to come off! For the first time in memory, Snape cursed the number of laces and buttons he wore. After much effort, he finally stripped away the layers of his Professorship along with his shorts, unsheathing his hungry erection. Hermione thought it closely resembled a sink pipe on his wiry body.

"Everything – take everything off," she insisted after noticing the wizard seemed unwilling to remove his undershirt.

Nodding, Severus reluctantly did as the witch asked. He wasn't thrilled about her seeing his skeletal frame, Dark Mark or the scars from Nagini's bite but given her current state of arousal, perhaps she wouldn't notice. Once finished, he eased himself on the bed. Hermione was beautiful, the most beautiful thing he had ever laid with. He had to be certain she left his chambers feeling like a queen, not merely a woman conquered.

"Tell me what you want," he said in a raspy voice.

Hermione leaned over and whispered something obsene into his ear. Shocked by the suggestion, Severus colored slightly.

"W-what ...?" he replied.

No sooner did he think it, than it arrived. The wizard's mouth went slack when he felt Hermione clench his pole.

"Don't," he croaked, quickly removing her hand. One stroke and he would've been a goner.

"Severus, please …" she shamelessly urged.

All the witch could think about was sating her need ... her need to have him, to feel him inside her. Sighing, she nestled her nose into the crook of his neck and ground her body against his.

"I want you ..." she murmured. "I need you ..."

After swallowing what felt like a boulder in his throat, Severus shut his eyes. He tried to recall his service, Dumbledore and strangely enough, Lily too. Had he been more inclined, he would've considered that showboat, Harry Potter; anything to keep his mind off his arousal. Severus was by no means a premie but he was at a disadvantage. Holding his 'magma' was priority number one.

"Now," Hermione growled, slicing his concentration.

Right then, the wizard's eyes popped open. They were just as hot, if not hotter than the witch cooing. He gently slipped his hand underneath her thigh and roughly yanked her towards his throbbing erection.

"Are you ready?" he asked, recalling their brief encounter in the corridor when he took her virginity.

Hermione looked soberly into the wizard's eyes. The lines around them were contorting with excitement and uncertainty. She could sense that he wanted this as much as she did but he would not take it without her full consent. He had only penetrated her once, which wasn't enough to tame her body – but regardless of how much it might hurt, she had no doubt this was what she wanted.

"Yes." She softly replied.

Severus positioned his hips. Frankly, he was expecting more ceremony but if this is how she wanted it, he would not deny or disappoint.

"Hold my eyes," he said. "I want to see you."

Hermione locked orbs with the wizard. He gazed into them for what seemed like an eternity before arching his back and sliding his length deep into the witch's lubed center. There was resistance, loads of resistance but Severus did not stop until he could go no further.

Instantly, the witch's eyes rounded. As they grew to greater proportions, her mouth curved into a large 'O'. The deeper he sank the wider they both became until finally, she closed her lids let out a shriek. Severus also broke with a yell but his howl had nothing to do with pain.

"The … the worst is over," he panted, not daring to budge for fear he might ejaculate.

Hermione smiled through her tear-stung eyes. "Again," she whispered.

The wizard took a deep breath and nodded. He wanted to please his partner but not at the risk of embarrassing himself. With that in mind, Snape began to thrust; allowing the witch time to adjust and himself time to become better acquainted with the feel of her cunt. She was amazingly soft and wet, wetter than anything he had ever shagged. Is this what it felt like to be with a woman who desired him? Until then, he had no idea what that felt like.

As the wizard worked, Hermione observed a series of complex emotions on his face. He appeared to be treading somewhere between heaven and earth.

"Yes," he groaned. "Aaghhh, yes …"

After several minutes, the witch's painful initiation into sex was over. She soon felt another kind of ache, similar to the one she experienced before they started. It was like an inch that needed to be scratched. Gradually, she came to enjoy the feel of his hard cock sliding in and out of her broken orifice.

"Severus, harder … please …" she pleaded.

Snape opened his eyes and looked down. All trace of discomfort was now gone. It appeared as if the witch was ready to ride.

"Are you sure?" he asked while at the same time picking up speed. He'd give her a proper fucking if that's what she wanted. Merlin knows he did.

"Yes – yes!"

Severus positioned himself on his hands and rotated his hips in a circle. This drew a string of naughty curses from the witch that made him smirk with pride. So, she liked to be hollowed out?

"You liked that, didn't you?" He smugly asked.

Hermione licked her lips and nodded. "Do it again," she demanded.

Scowling, the Professor punished the witch with several quick jabs.

"Is – that – anyway – to – ask?"

Hermione melted. "Please – _please_ do it again," she amended.

Severus closed his eyes and circled the witch's hub until the burning in his back forced him to stop. Panting, he slowly retreated into the upright position. He was ready for something faster, more stable and with a view. Gripping her hips tightly, Severus began to churn the witch's pussy.

"That's it, that's it," she sang. "Faster, faster ..."

Severus never withdrew his cock. He kept it firmly embedded in the witch's cunt as he pumped.

"More?" he said, his male smugness taking over.

"Yes …" Hermione deliciously replied.

Spreading her legs as wide as they would go, Snape watched the magnificence of the event and her glory as he worked. It slid in and out of her oiled passage like a moving part to a clock. He belonged inside this woman. This was his and no one else's. Whether she knew it or not, at this moment in time, he owned this beautiful cunt and the brainy woman attached to it.

Severus continued to milk the witch's body. After a while, he drew enough pre-come that droplets of it began to form pearls around the edges of his pubic hairs.

_She's close …_he thought, slowing down long enough to admire the Gryffindor clawing his bed sheets.

_So close …_

Suddenly, he stopped and withdrew.

"No!" She protested.

Severus ignored her objection and slid off the mattress. "Move to the edge of the bed," he ordered.

Unable to refuse, Hermione slid down to the edge. Severus wasted no time positioning himself. Standing between her thighs, he held her legs and thrust himself back inside. The witch rewarded him with a lustful howl.

"Are you ready for me to let go, Hermione?" He hoarsely asked, pumping but not fucking the witch.

"I'm ready for anything …"

Smiling, the wizard withdrew his entire length and rammed it all the way to the hilt. Again, there was some resistance but he plowed right through it. When he completed the stroke, he didn't wait for an invitation. He just kept on going. His movements were slow and calculated, unlike the quick penetration from before. He purposely withdrew, hovered and buried his cock back inside the witch. He took immense pleasure in the sound Hermione's wails as he rode her saddle home. He could tell her cries weren't cries of agony but pleasure, which fueled his ego.

"I'm so close," she said. "More, more ..."

"As you wish," he growled.

Snape griped Hermione's ankles and tore into her cunt, sparing her neither comfort nor breath as he battered her body at her request. Never once did she tell him to stop or slow down. Never once did she seem to be in any pain beyond the pain she wanted. They had become one person with one need. The wizard bounced off the witch's body like a human trampoline, attacking her pussy so brutally that her face, breasts and thighs rippled from the impact. Minutes into the ride, he felt her walls tighten – seconds after that, there was an incredible pulse, which gripped his tool like a hundred humming birds.

_She's coming._

Hermione arched her back and let out an inaudible howl which Snape matched in mind. The orgasm was so violent that it stole her voice. For several moments, she hinged on a scream but the sound never escaped.

"Yes, that's it ... _come_," he crooned, pumping the witch slowly.

Gradually, Hermione returned to her senses, opened her eyes and looked up. She was met with a certain contentment and smugness from her lover; however, despite his enjoyment over bringing her to climax, he was secretly moved by something else. He felt an overwhelming satisfaction in her eyes, a type of peace that made him want to live in that moment forever. Sadly, forever was too long to wait.

Seconds later, a surge of strength sprung from the wizard's loins and shot through his erection like a bolt of lightning riding a tidal wave, coating the witch's cervix with jet after jet of release.

The wizard shuddered, then hissed a string of drunken obscenities in an attempt to channel some of that energy. Little did he know that the witch below him was committing his face and every word he spoke to memory. Minutes, maybe hours later, Severus collapsed onto the bed.

"Thank you," he muttered.

* * *

Lying nude, Snape stared up at the ceiling while the young woman beside him slept. She had fallen asleep shortly after their interlude but he remained awake. Thoughts of their encounter and all the strange happenings at Hogwarts, weighed heavily on his mind. Despite having been so completely sated for the first time in his life, the wizard was an habitual worrier.

After an hour or so, he rolled onto his side and focused intently on the sleeping Gryffindor. If someone had told him a year ago that, Hermione Granger would be sharing his bed that night or any night, he would have had hexed the nutter, then had them committed.

Yet, here she was.

The wizard ran his sallow, pale finger along her creamy shoulder possessively. Yes, Hermione was his lover, his only lover to date. She had passed the point of no return by allowing him to have her so completely. Perhaps, she didn't truly care for him. Maybe her feelings were based on some misguided sense of infatuation or maybe, just maybe this was the beginning of something real. Severus didn't trust real but he did trust himself and in his mind, it mattered not. She had given herself to him, freely and completely. He was the only to have had her and the only one that would have her if he had anything to say about it. She was his. He would make sure she stayed that way.

Severus Snape never lost anything that belonged to him.


	48. WTF?

Severus awoke around noon. When he realized the time, he scrambled out of bed without any thought to his nakedness and staggered forward, nearly toppling over his own feet in the process. His limbs were heavy with fatigue, despite the fact that he had plenty of rest; however, before he could consider the strangeness of it, a thunderous bolt of pain crackled across his brain bringing him to a complete stop.

"Mother of ..."

To the average observer, the sight of a thin, sallow-skinned, nude wizard, keeled over, laboring over a Muggle obscenity may have served as a spectacle to some but to the equally pained witch lying bed, the vision barely registered.

"You too?" mumbled Hermione as she massaged her temples. She didn't have a mind to even look at the wizard.

The voice served to numb the wizard's pain long enough for him to realize that he was not alone, that he was naked and that something was very wrong. Severus reached over and grabbed his tatty housecoat off the hanging post. The milliseconds it took for him to dress and whisk back around would have impressed even the most agile pixie.

"Miss – Granger," he said awkwardly.

The crackles of pain he was experiencing concealed the memory of their previous night together much the same way his housecoat concealed his poor figure. It was there. It was definitely there. It just wasn't visible.

"Professor," She said in her best-mock voice.

Suddenly, a thought occurred. "W–what are you still doing here?" he asked.

Hermione's face changed. That was no way to address the woman he had thoroughly bed less than twelve hours ago.

"What I meant to say was …," he softly amended. "Why aren't you in your dorm?"

The witch waited several seconds before allowing her frown to relent. "I … I must have fallen asleep," she said.

Snape grasped his throbbing forehead and groaned. He hadn't mean to offend his company. He just hurt.

"I don't recall hearing any complaints last night," Hermione intoned. She was just aloud enough for Severus to hear, which forced him to snap upright.

Hermione had brains, of this Snape had no doubt but he had to wonder if she possessed an ounce of common sense.

"Last night – I … _we _were besotted. This morning I am grossly befuddled, "he explained. "Think woman, think! How do you intend to explain your absence? Breaking curfew is one thing but not returning at all is grounds for suspension!"

Hermione balked over the wizard's dramatic point but it did make her think about something other than her horrendous headache. How was she going to explain where she'd been all night? And why did her head hurt so much?

"I … I don't know," she finally answered, looking to and from the wizard with a small, worried expression, which did nothing to ease the wizard's mind.

An awkward silence befell the room.

"I will just tell Professor Sweetie that my coach never arrived. He isn't the suspicious type ... so he shouldn't suspect anything – in fact, he'll probably have a good laugh when I explain how horrific my experience was on the Night Bus!"

Snape appeared less worried but he wasn't confident the old wizard would buy it. He never would, that's for sure. If he did, that meant he was a soft – if he didn't, Hermione was in deep. Her pass didn't extend to Sunday morning.

"I suppose I should get dressed now," said Hermione, wrapping the bed sheet tightly around her body as she slipped out of bed.

Severus wanted to show more decorum but the Slytherin in him hesitated. He had seen Hermione naked so the mystery was gone but there were other nuisances to consider. The idea of watching her dress fascinated him. Did she show as much attention to detail as he or was she quick and careless? Severus was familiar with her body, something the one-time Headmaster found deplorable but the man in him could not remember the last time he had awoken next to a woman; much less a female he had deflowered. He was naturally curious about everything down to the smallest detail.

Hermione felt Severus tracing her actions and glanced back. "Ahem," she signaled.

Snape wheeled around before Hermione could see him blush. "Hurry up," he spat, snatching his own clothes off the floor and storming into the lavatory.

* * *

Snape remained tucked away until Hermione was gone. It wasn't out of cowardness that he hid but practicality. Seeing her off would have just made things between them awkward and their budding, whatever-it-was needn't fall victim to that assassin.

Severus was dressed now, adorned in usual black robes but he felt anything but composed, nothing like his usual self. He felt displaced, out of his element, which was bloody disconcerting for a man of his caliber and dark experience. He gazed into his reflection as if he was seeing himself anew. The man he saw looked very much like him but something had changed, something was different and if he could see it, could others? His night with Hermione was indescribable but it wasn't something he was accustomed to sharing and the afterglow he was now experiencing was as foreign to him as the idea of magic to Muggles.

Snape exhaled a long, jagged breath. It was too late to change what happened and even if he could, his selfish nature wouldn't allow it. He had to concentrate on keeping their _relationship _a secret while at the same time alive. If Minerva were to learn of their … _his_ indiscretion, that would be end of everything!

"You should have made her leave!" he told his pale reflection.

The mirror did not respond.

Scowling, Snape hissed and walked out. "Careless, simply careless," he grumbled.

* * *

Snape rushed up the dungeon stairwell towards the Great Hall. Since he missed breakfast, he thought it best to make an appearance at midday meal. Most teachers skipped midday meals at the High Table and ate lunch in the lounge, except on Sundays.

Snape billowed down the main corridor like a man on a mission until he reached the glass pillars. Something about them made him stop and take notice. The wizard walked apprehensively towards the gleaming stones, now radiating a dark brilliance. Most of them, nearly all of them had turned. A few of the gems remained dull, sprinkled with a dozen or so marbled ones but they were all transformed in one way or another.

Severus slowly reached into pocket and removed the stones Hermione had taken. They were glinting like the others, completely consumed by the rich, dark color of their kin. As he stared into the pieces, his thoughts centered on Hermione, the lust he felt and the guilt he didn't want to feel and the foreign feeling that led him to both. Why should he feel guilty about partaking in something that offered itself willingly … eagerly? Why should he give a damn what other people think? He deserved something for all those years he lurked, spied and lied for the sake of the greater good. He deserved something for protecting Potter's arrogant, willful arse; even before his little nads dropped. The Wizarding World owed him. The Muggle World owned him. Minerva owed him. Hell, with his connections as a war hero he could have easily demanded his old job back! So what if she found out? He gave his life in service! He gave his soul … both figuratively and literally.

At that precise moment, Severus's decent into pride and mayhem came to a screeching halt. For the first time in months he was reminded of that place; the place he tried so desperately to forget. He didn't want to remember that voice, those words. He didn't want to remember because he had chalked them up to a pretty dream.

"Professor?"

Snape closed his fist and spun around. Professor Sweetie was peering curiously over his lenses. For a moment, the old man reminded him of Albus; except he didn't possess that annoying twinkle.

"Good afternoon," he greeted.

Nicholas acknowledged his greeting with a smile. "Is everything alright?" he asked.

Severus wanted to tell him no; that nothing was alright, that his whole world was in chaos! He wanted to tell him his suspicions about Adrian, his confusion over Hermione, Draco's fool hearted antics and his plan to figure out just what the hell was going on at Hogwarts but he didn't – he couldn't. Severus wasn't the sort who shared but if there was ever a man, Nicholas would have probably been it. He had a way of putting people at ease.

"Fine – everything is fine. And yourself, how are you doing?" He softly asked.

Nicholas took a long, deep breath.

"Good, I suppose ... except for the fact that one of my students broke curfew last night. Actually, it's a little worse than that but … but … that's House business. I have no desire to bore you."

Snape's heart skipped a beat. "Really?" he said with great interest.

"Why yes, Miss Granger reported in late this morning, very late. She was due back last night. Of course, she claims that she missed her coach and she had to take the Night Bus but I don't buy it. I wasn't born yesterday you know!"

Severus's stoic expression faltered ever so slightly.

"I can't have my students believing they can do as they please simply because I'm new. Therefore ... it is best that I inform the Headmistress of Miss Granger's actions," Nicholas resigned.

"But …"

Sweetie's eyes danced. "But what?" he asked.

Severus's mind swarmed with possible excuses while cursing his presumption that Nicholas was weak. He swatted each idea like a fly until his Slytherin mind netted a crafty, wholly brilliant answer.

"Oh, it's nothing really. I understand ..." he said, pausing briefly. "It's just …"

Nicholas focused on the wizard's face. "What is it?" he insisted.

"Professor McGonagall feels quite responsible for what happened to Goyle and has been very busy overseeing his recovery. I seriously doubt she would have time to consider a proper punishment for such an infraction. Do you think it wise to burden her already burdened mind with such a thing? Sometimes we teachers have to rely on our instincts regarding matters such as these," the wizard said meaningfully.

Nicholas looked evenly into the wizard's eyes. He understood perfectly well what Snape was doing and was damn glad he was doing it.

"Ah yes … well," he shrugged, giving the Slytherin the impression he was leaning.

Severus posed his hands and slid forward.

"Of course, I would never want to influence you. It is your decision. However, I am curious. How did you learn of what happened? Don't tell me one of your darling cubs told?"

"No, of course not. I learned of her absence at this morning's head count. Every so often, I conduct a suprise visit to the dormitory," said Nicholas.

"Head count," Snape repeated.

"Yes – don't you?"

Severus felt a little smaller. He had misjudged Nicholas. Obviously, he wasn't the soft-hearted, sheep he had mistaken him for.

"Not recently …" he replied.

The truth was, Snape never performed morning head counts but it was worth considering. How surprised his charges would be if they saw his gleaming yellow smile first thing in the morning?

"Perhaps you're right, Severus. Maybe I should hold off on speaking with Minerva for now. Besides, Granger has suffered enough this term," he chuckled. "We all make mistakes."

Snape's expression hardened. Yes, he respected Nicholas a little more but the old man had a lot to learn about discipline. Normally, he would have happy to offer a suggestion or two but he had to suppress his exacting nature just this once.

"Yes … I suppose," said Snape, peering just passed his colleague to observe a group of rowdy Slytherins.

Sweetie studied the man carefully.

"What's wrong, Severus? Don't you believe in second chances?" He asked.

Right then, right there, time seemed to stop. Slowly, the wizard's mind moved from composed to disturbed. This was the second time Nicholas said something that chilled him to the bone, something that reminded him of someone else.

"_What …_" he tried, his voice barely registering but by then, Nicholas had turned away.

"Enough chat, I should be off – loads to do. After all, time is a gift not a luxury!" said Sweetie, waltzing down the corridor.

Severus blinked heavily.

* * *

Hermione watched Professor Sweetie exit the corridor from the platform above. She overheard most of their conversation, including Severus's timely defense and was relieved to have escaped punishment but she couldn't fathom why Severus appeared so dismantled afterwards. She had never known anyone to spook him. What did Sweetie say that was so alarming?

* * *

Snape entered the dining area to find the Headmistress sitting at the High Table. _She's back?_ He thought, pausing long enough to observe that Adrian, in all her aesthetic splendor, had seated herself next to McGonagall. In his opinion, Torres was much too green to supersede the order on Sundays.

Severus proceeded to the far left and billowed passed the Slytherin table. Draco was also back and conversing with his usual lot. The young wizard didn't make any attempt to acknowledge his Head of House like the others, choosing instead to concentrate on his plate. Snape overlooked his rudeness for the sake of his own temper. He was displeased with his charge, most displeased and any confrontation would probably escalate into an interrogation.

Snape found an empty chair between Professors Flitwick and Trelawney and sat down. He gingerly placed a napkin across his lap and began serving himself.

"Good afternoon," said McGonagall, leaning over to greet the wizard. "We missed you at the faculty meeting this morning."

Suprised, Snape stopped and glanced up.

"My apologies … I was unaware that a meeting had been scheduled."

"So you didn't you get my message? I instructed Adrian to deliver it this morning. It should have been under your door when you awoke."

Snape shook his head. "No ... furthermore, I overslept." He said.

"Oh … I see. Very well, you will find a copy of the meeting notes in your box later. Please review them when you have time."

Like a scolded pupil, Severus dropped his eyes. He hated that he missed the first staff meeting since the Headmistress's return but he reviled her public attention to the matter even more.

"How is Mister Goyle?" he put forth, changing the subject. Severus was aware of Gregory's condition and doubted it had changed since his visit the night before but he thought he would ask anyway.

"Goyle is recovering well," McGonagall said simply.

Snape held his tongue but his mind asked the obvious question. He quickly surmised that the Headmistress was trying to avoid any unnecessary gloom and accepted her reply with a small nod. Shortly after, he made a show of cutting his roast beef in an effort to discourage further conversation. Maybe if he appeared famished enough, Minerva would allow him to dine in peace.

"How goes Potions?" She asked, interrupting the wizard mid-bite.

The other faculty members continued their individual conversations, oblivious to the awkwardness on their colleague's face.

_How goes Potions?_

"Well enough ...," looking to and from the witch candidly. In all his years of service, he could not recall a single time anyone had ever asked that question.

Minerva soon turned her attention to Torres. Adrian, who seemed unusually alert, never looked in Potion Master's direction. She also failed to comment on the matter of the Headmistress's message.

Severus returned to his meal but with misgivings. He looked up several times to observe his surroundings but each glance resulted in more questions. It was difficult to describe what he saw and felt but everything about everyone seemed … off. The teachers were going about their daily chatter but the gossip was grossly negative. He also noticed that the regular staff, namely Poppy and Filch were nowhere around and the volume in room was considerably dampened.

"Where are Poppy and Filch?" He whispered to Filius.

The Charms Professor rolled his eyes. "The Headmistress ordered that the staff dine separately during meals. You'd know that, if you had attended this morning's meeting." He said with an air of loftiness.

It took all the wizard had to keep from slicing Filius with his lethal sarcasm. _Who was it that helped you with your unspeakable rash when you were too embarrassed to visit Pomfrey, mm? Don't bite the hand that heals you,_ he should have said.

* * *

Hermione entered the Great Hall with all the Gryffindor courage she could muster. In retrospect, she should have prepared herself more but she thought she could handle seeing Severus outside their encounter. She was wrong. Seeing him struck a nerve, a very intimate nerve.

_Walk – don't run,_ Hermione reminded herself.

The witch did her best not to react but witnessing Severus in his daytime role after what happened made her giddy with knowledge and a smile slipped. Incidentally, the Professor was watching. He locked eyes on the witch the moment she entered the room.

Hermione made her way to the first available seat. As usual, Harry and the others were abuzz about something a few heads down but she no longer sat with her old mates. Since Lavender re-entered the picture and Ginny became so obnoxious, her days as the head bookworm of the infamous clan were over. Instead, she sat with whomever, whenever and made the best of the situation each time. Still, it was difficult to tune out their voices. They were so familiar.

* * *

"Bloody unfair if you ask me," Ron grumbled.

Lavender nodded. She always agreed with everything her Won-Won said.

"Try to see it from Professor McGonagall's point of view. She's been laboring at that hospital for weeks! Naturally, she wants to re-establish some kind of order now that she's back," Ginny offered.

"Yeah ... it'll blow over. Give it a week or two," said Harry.

"Whatever," said Ron, careful to keep his voice down.


	49. Alpha Explains

Nicholas entered his office to find Gabriel perched on his desktop, gazing down at the empty portrait he occupied for so many months. Alpha had freed him saying that he had important work for him elsewhere. Had he known that work entailed going to see his fallen brethren … he might have offered to go another round as Freddy Fredrick. Perdition was a barren wasteland, filled with warring souls and foul smells. Everyone lied to everyone and no one cared about anything but self-preservation. It was irony at its best, considering death was no longer a factor.

"Ah, Gabriel, you're back I see – how is Lou? Still griping?" He asked, morphing into his preferred form.

Gabriel bowed his head in reverence, retracted his wings and stepped off the desk. "As you know, Lucifer and his followers have been very vocal. They've begun hailing Heaven, bellyaching that the wizard's opportunity is a violation of sacred decree," he answered.

"Oh, really?" Alpha said lightly. "Why am I not surprised?"

"That's not all, my Lord …," the Arc hedged. "Lucifer has requested an audience with you – here … at Hogwarts and would like your permission to cross the void."

Alpha resisted the urge to laugh. Who was he to make such an outrageous request?

"He believes he can convince you that Snape belongs with him," the angel finished.

Somewhat amused, Alpha took a seat in his favorite chair and considered the demon's appeal. Contrary to popular belief, he took great satisfaction in debating his former servant. Though they had been adversaries for many eons, he never grew tired of disproving his theories and deflating his slanderous attitude towards man. Still … he would not allow Severus to become a pawn in Lucifer's endeavors to win support from Heaven nor was he a lost soul that he could claim. Grace had saved Snape's and no power, short of free will could or would interfere with his plan.

Gabriel waited patiently for the ancient One to complete his thought process. He always knew exactly what to do but for some reason he enjoyed laboring over the task.

"I think not," said Alpha. "Lucifer will just have to sit this one out. I have enough to keep me busy."

Gabriel accepted the Lord's answer with a grateful nod and stationed himself on a nearby window seal. No meant he didn't have to return to Perdition. Lou would get the idea when he didn't show back up with a regimen of escorts.

"And how is the mortal, Snape?" the Arc asked.

Alpha shrugged. Severus was doing well under the circumstances. Like any man, he suffered a few setbacks but for the most part, he was progressing. He simply hoped Adrian, Draco and Lady Karkaroff didn't undermine the wizard's development with their plan.

"He is doing as expected," said the Deity.

"That bad?"

Alpha observed his servant with a high brow. Gabriel liked humans of course, particularly this one because they had similar dispositions but he found it difficult to trust their nature. He also felt, despite the Creator's infinite wisdom, they were a tad thick.

"Have a little faith my friend. Severus will come around. He has already taken with Granger, which was an immense step forward. I'm just a little concerned about the others."

"The others," the angel repeated. "Just how far along are Adrian and Draco?"

"Lady Karkaroff succeeded in capturing the Headmistress and has assumed her form. She has returned to Hogwarts and resumed Minerva's role. The wizard, Goyle is remains incapacitated and is being monitored by the witch's man-servant, Evander, to see that he remains that way. Adrian has completed her first assignment. Most of the staff and students are now under the spell of the Nexus Curse. The affects of which may be observed in the House stones. Nearly all of them have turned."

"And Snape … is he …?"

"Charmed? Not entirely. He suffers from it but his growing infatuation with the witch, and vice versa, has lessened the influence; however, if something isn't done soon the damage may be permanent. As you've probably guessed, Lady Karkaroff cares nothing for the residents of Hogwarts – her only concern is ascertaining Voldemort's Inferi Army. She will need their help if she wants to seize control of the ministry and retrieve Merlin's scrolls. Doing so would grant her access to the most powerful magic available. She still believes Snape is the key to finding out where Voldemort's army rests."

Gabriel shuddered. He despised Inferi. They were just so … dead.

"Why the big masquerade then? Why not kidnap Snape and force him to tell her?"

"Even if Severus knew, he would never hand over his secrets. She knows that, which is why she hired Adrian – to lure it out of him the old-fashioned way."

The Angel rolled his eyes. "Pillow talk," he injected. Sex was a bit of a joke in Heaven but then, angels didn't procreate so they didn't understand the power it had over mankind.

"Yes, precisely, but Torres failed in her mission and Lady Karkaroff never forgets a failure. Still, she and Draco are just pawns in the witch's master plan. She intends to murder the prostitute, Adrian upon completion of her service."

"Kill?"

"Well, yes … Adrian is the only person who knows her identity now. Not even Draco knows. It is also vengeance for sullying her brother's reputation when he was alive. Igor and Adrian were lovers, you see. Once Torres is out of the picture, Rosa may concentrate on her other plans. She has already seen to Lucius Malfoy's escape and after she has his family under her thumb, she will have all the financing and influence she will ever need; or so she thinks. Much of Malfoy's wealth rests in Gringotts Bank and cannot be removed by anyone but him. A fugitive might find that a bit difficult," Alpha said with a wink.

Gabriel chuckled at this.

"For now, the witch's goal is to infiltrate Hogwarts and slowly win over the next wave of witches and wizards. She hopes to convince them of their need for a stable leader. Their support will provide Karkaroff an enormous political and social advantage in the future."

"Hook em' while their young," the angel deduced.

"That's not all ... should she fail to acquire Voldemort's Army, they will serve as the replacement. Yes my old friend, Rosa Karkaroff is well on her way to becoming the first Dark Lady of this age."

There was a long, unproductive moment between the pair while each contemplated the situation in their own terms. Ethereal beings had a habit of doing that. What humans failed to recognize was that, life, death, souls, the universe, science, Heaven, Perdition … existence itself, was a delicate balance of action and thought. Each life affected one another in a very intimate way.

Gabriel hopped off the window seal and paced the small area between the window and the office door. "I leave this world for a week and when I get back – chaos!" He said importantly, knowing full and well his Lord would take his vanity with a grain of salt.

"Ah, yes … well, I am sure Severus will be most aggrieved when he learns of your displeasure down the road; however, I haven't given up hope that he and the Granger will stop, Lady Karkaroff. They are already onto her scent. No, my greater concern lay with the curse. Severus and Hermione aren't close enough to the truth yet. By the time they figure it out, I fear it may be too late. The darkness that resides in each Hogwarts's resident has begun to surface. "

Gabriel opened his mouth to speak but wisely thought the better of it. He wasn't in the habit of questioning his Lord. Not that it mattered, Alpha spotted his hesitation and smiled knowingly.

"Is there something you'd like to say?" He asked.

The angel hesitated again. "You could nullify the curse," he suggested.

Alpha's pleasant expression faltered but not terribly. "My dearest Gabriel – this is Severus's mission," he said standing. "I will do nothing. The man is quite resilient. He has survived much worse in life. He will survive this – no influence, including yours will be permitted - am I understood?"

Gabriel, the Lord's most favored messenger, expanded his wings and bowed deeply. "Thy Will, will be done." He submitted.

* * *

**A/C:** I have received some negative email on God's role in this story but that's okay. I'm used to it. This is what it's about folks. Alpha is not responsible for Rosa, Draco or Adrian. He is merely and observer doing the best He can to help without interfering too much. The biggest mystery has yet to be solved but that won't be resolved until much later. In fact, I will probably receive a lot of bird mail! :)


	50. The Original Trio

In the weeks following McGonagall's return, the Professor and Hermione seemed to focus less on their theories and more on each other. Severus was in unchartered waters; completely consumed by the idea that a witch desired him. Being something a natural pessimist, he tested those waters every chance he got.

Hermione was equally enamored, perhaps more than Severus. She couldn't seem to get enough of the stark, forbidden wizard.

The situation became precarious when the headmistress decided to lift Granger's standing-detention, the punishment they had been using as a guise. This left them stranded in their perspective roles as student and teacher. Although they were unable to engage sexually, the pair met in abandoned corridors, empty classrooms and closets as often as they could.

"I should ... go," Severus breathed, reaching for the doorknob. The coolness of the brass helped him to focus.

Hermione loosened her grip and slid down his waistcoat. "I know … I just wanted … to wish you … a Happy Christmas," she whispered, pecking away at his swollen lips.

Rather than respond, the wizard swooped down and captured Hermione's mouth one last time. The only person to-ever wish him good tidings was Albus. He usually dismissed the wizard with a sardonic bob, but he found it much more difficult to ignore the panting woman nestled against his crotch.

"Go …" she said disappointedly. "Go, before I change my mind."

Severus brushed back his oily waves, smoothed his robes and exited the room before the witch could corner him again. It was painfully difficult to leave Hermione but he had too. If he stayed any longer, he would surely submit. Incidentally, no one – not even his long-time colleagues suspected the wizard of any wrongdoing whenever they passed him the corridor. He was a pillar of stone to everyone but Adrianna who had taken it upon herself to log his whereabouts between studies. Though she was unable to catch him in the act, she was onto her co-worker's sudden obsession with closets and empty classrooms; a truth that might prove useful should she need it.

As tribute to the New Year, McGonagall removed all standing notices and restored everyone's points. Her justification barely registered over the roar of applause from students. Most of the adults, with the exception of Snape, Torres and a handful of staff dining separately, looked on approvingly.

When the room settled down, the Headmistress announced a revised school code with stricter academic guidelines, harsher punishments and a handful of new rules; one of which forbade all travel outside of Hogwarts without expressed permission from the Head Office. This applied to both students and teachers. Unsanctioned communication with persons outside of the school was also suspended.

"I recently learned there are many Death Eaters still afoot. We must take every precaution until the Ministry has regained full control the situation," she explained.

Severus did not question Minerva's right to impose her own guidelines, just her motives and perhaps the rules themselves. He also found the teacher's blind acceptance of them astonishing, particularly the ones involving the treatment of regular staff. Dumbledore had forsaken certain social practices such as stripping away the right to reprimand from non-professors and insisting that they report to the House Heads regarding complaints. This more or less closed the door on Albus's open door policy. For someone like Minerva to reinstate those customs was shocking.

_If the Headmaster was alive, he'd drop dead …_thought Snape.

The Headmistress used Goyle's accident as a basis for imposing severe consequences at Hogwarts, citing that no student would suffer for the sake of education and banned all activities involving interaction with creatures or spells that could prove harmful. This revised code made several provisions for personal dress, propriety and established a new marking system. Grading was to become much more competitive, with all "O's" earning each student 20 points.

Snape grimaced over the idea. Though he was comfortable with his student's abilities, Ravenclaw would surely take away the majority of those points.

Discipline had also changed. The code allowed Professors to punish minor offenses but violations that exceeded 50 points or two weeks detention were passed on to Professor McGonagall. Any student referred to the Headmistress was bound to a three-tier action, which stated:

FIRST ACTION: a written admission of guilt, 75 points and a month's detention.

SECOND ACTION: a written admission of guilt, an apology performed in front of the student body, six weeks of detention, 100-points, a parental notice and 3 months probation.

THIRD ACTION: Expulsion

McGonagall's announcement was met with silence. The students, even a few teachers found the new order chillingly bleak. It seemed too leave very little room for error or penance.

"Hogwarts is shaping up to be another Durmstrang," one boy commented.

"Please enjoy the feast everyone! Class will resume in the morning," said the Headmistress at the close of her speech.

While the students applauded politely, Snape and Hermione shot each other a worried glance. They held the gaze just long enough for Torres to spot the exchange. Adrian discerned the witch's feelings right away but Snape's shell was a little harder to crack. Still, there was sexual tension between them, of that she had no doubt. She understood the nature of sex all too well. At first, she couldn't believe - Granger was so young and pretty and Snape was a greasy, foul-tempered git. However, the longer she observed the pair, the more it clicked ... the detentions ... the late night wanderings ... the midday excursions ... and Snape's rejection.

_He is banging the witch! He has too be. Why that sneaky, pious bastard!_

* * *

"Who was that woman?" Ron asked, plopping down on the couch.

Harry and Ginny settled nearby.

"Professor McGonagall has always been strict but I can't recall her ever being this strict," Ginny agreed.

"Strict! She's a bloody terror," said Ron. "And I thought Snape was bad! I tell ya, Harry – I think we'd be better off with him as Headmaster!"

Lavender moseyed over to the sofa and snuggled up to her wizard. "It's okay Won-Won. We only have a few months left." She said, stroking his hair tenderly.

Harry pretended not to notice but he was getting tired of ignoring it – why did she have to be so silly? He also hated it when she called him, Won-Won. It was so emasculating.

Ron brushed Lavender's hand away. "Um, yeah … thanks," he mumbled.

"All Professor Snape ever did was control his classroom. He was hardly a tyrant," a defensive voice said from the corner of the room.

Everyone turned around. Hermione was in the corner, curled up with a book next to the window. She made a show of appearing extremely involved but it was easy to see that she was still listening.

Harry grinned. She was right, of course.

"Don't tell me you're defending that big-nose git!" Ron chuckled, thankful that she was now speaking to him. Since discovering his amour with Lavender, Hermione rejected him at every turn though she still communicated with Harry some.

"His nose isn't that big …," Hermione said awkwardly.

"Like hell it isn't! He could part the Red Sea with that thing!"

Lavender nudged the wizard and snickered.

Hermione snapped her book closed and stood up. "Don't be such an infant, _Ron_," she said, looking directly after Lavender. "Professor Snape is a good teacher and despite his impatience for imbeciles, he is not completely unfair."

Ron looked at Harry. "I can't believe we're debating Snape's fairness." He laughed.

"Hermione's right – but that's hardly the point. Professor McGonagall has really gone off the deep end. It's like she changed over night!"

Ginny looked between her boyfriend and former gal-pal. She felt a pang of guilt over their broken association and struggled to recall the reason why they had drifted so far apart. Yes, Hermione had cost Gryffindor several points and embarrassed Gryffindor with hsince the start of term but now those points had been restored … did it really matter anymore?

Hermione rose from her seat and moved into the light. "What if … " she began. "What if it has something to do with Professor Torres?"

Harry was aware of Hermione's suspicion regarding the attractive Dark Arts teacher but he didn't see the connection between her and the Headmistress. "W-what?" he sputtered.

"What if I told you that Malfoy and Torres are in cahoots with one another and that it's possible the Headmistress has been drawn into their plan … that she's being influenced - that we all are?"

Ron stared at the witch blankly. "Influenced how?" he asked. The others nodded along.

Hermione took a deep breath and went into her spiel about Draco, Adrian, Goyle, the Muggle Witch and the stones. Much of what she said seemed too fantastic for the foursome but they listened anyway. Of course, Hermione omitted Snape's involvement. She had too, if only to avoid triggering the oath's consequence but the inclusion would have gone a long way in making her story more creditable.

"Wait, wait -" Lavender interrupted. "What proof do you have that Torres and Goyle were involved?"

Hermione purposely ignored the witch. "Two elves spotted them," she told the group.

"Elves?" Harry blurted. "Which elves and when, better yet why? They don't even like you."

Hermione thought of the Professor. How could she make them believe her without specific details?

"Not all of them," she said defensively.

Ginny rose from her seat. She suddenly remembered why they weren't friends anymore. "Honestly, are you so desperate for attention that you would risk Gryffindor's reputation over these ridiculous claims? You have no evidence! What you're proposing is insane! A sex scandal? Conspiracy? A plot against the school? Even worse, you snuck off grounds -"

"I didn't sneak!" Hermione angrily corrected. "I had a note!"

"Either way, you have no right to accuse a teacher of having an affair with a student and plotting against the school without proof! That is a serious charge. All you have are wild allegations and a few peculiar observations!"

"Now wait," said Harry, moving between the young women. "We all know that Hermione isn't prone to bogus accusations. Maybe there really is something going on. We've all felt it, haven't we?"

"You're taking her side?" the witch spat.

"Ginny – I'm not taking anyone's side. I'm just saying that maybe she has a point."

Ron, who looked pathetically confused up until that point, stood up. "Harry's right. This thing with Professor McGonagall has me worried. I'm not sure if I buy the Malfoy/Torres conspiracy theory but Draco isn't the type to associate with Muggle Witches. That by itself is bloody weird! For the record, I didn't even know they existed."

Lavender swelled over Ron's defense of Hermione. "Won-Won! Ginny is your sister!" She said, springing forward.

The wizard gave the ridiculous witch an absurd look.

"So?"

"So - she deserves your support!"

Harry looked away. Ron would have been content to join him had it not been for the fact that Lavender was mere inches from his face.

"I don't bloody CARE!" he shouted. "She's wrong!"

Lavender blinked back her shock. Ron had never raised his voice to her before.

"Ron," she said sternly. "I will not stand by and watch HER corrupt you!"

"I'm with Lavender," Ginny snorted.

The wizards looked like cornered lions. Harry cared for Ginny very much but he wasn't about to let her order around like some cub. Ron either. As if on cue, both of them locked eyes and retook their seats.

"Then don't," they said.

The witches gasped indignantly. "Fine," Ginny hissed, tugging Lavender by the arm.

Lavender hesitated but only briefly. Together, the witches retreated upstairs. After they were gone, Harry and Ron turned back to Hermione and invited her to sit down. The witch happily accepted.

"Now, start from the beginning," Harry said.

* * *

Hermione waited in the corridor until Snape's class was over. Once everyone was gone, she entered the room to find him marking papers. He was grumbling something incomprehensible under his breath. Obviously, he wasn't happy with the results.

Severus quickly sensed a presence in the room. "Yes," he said, not bothering to look up.

"That bad, eh?"

Severus's eyes drifted up to find Hermione making her way down the aisle. At first, he was delighted to see her but that changed when he realized they were alone. The Professor was nothing, if not paranoid.

"Did anyone see you come in?" Severus asked, reaching for his wand. He quickly sealed the entrance and threw up a silencing charm.

"Uh – not really, just a few fifth years but they were too busy trying to escape to notice me."

Amused, the wizard's eyes danced. He had that affect on people.

"What do I owe this pleasure? I didn't expect to see you until later this week."

Hermione felt her stomach flutter. The Professor's voice was capable of so much more than discipline. She adored the sound of it whenever he mind fucked her. It was the component that made her cum. Although it had been weeks since they had sex, their raunchy encounters more than made up for it. The wizard wasn't short on imagination or talk when the opportunity presented itself. He made her feel special - one of a kind, like there was no one else in "his" universe. True, he was wrought with guilt in the beginning but whatever reservations he had about their relationship seemed to disappear over time.

Snape's mind flashed with the memory of their last encounter, creating a tingle that traveled the length of his torso downward. He discreetly observed the witch's lips, breasts, thighs and hips with high hopes. Had she come for him? Did she need it? He hoped so. He was just dying to bend her over his desk.

"I needed to talk to you," she said.

Suddenly, the image of him spreading her plump cheeks evaporated. Talk?

"Yes ... of course, please have a seat."

Hermione sat with her legs crossed and her hands folded in such a way that suggested she was all business. Snape chuckled at this but said nothing. He liked that she came to him. It made him feel included, a part of her decision making process.

"Go on," he said, gingerly placing hands in his lap.

"I talked to Harry and Ron last night. I told them everything." She announced. "They want too help."

Outwardly, the wizard remained true to his demeanor but inwardly something moved.

"I told them about Draco, Torres, Goyle … everything! Ron even suggested going to visit Goyle in the hospital. Can you imagine that? Ron wishing a Slytherin a speedy recovery?"

*Silence*

"Well – what do you think? The three of us can work together and I will report back to you if we find anything. We could use an extra pair of hands and eyes. Olivia is sweet but there are certain places she can't go."

*Silence*

Hermione began to sense something was wrong. He wasn't blinking.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

Hermione's face sank when Severus shifted to Snape mode and leaned forward.

"Whatever possessed you to do such a thing? How could you tell someone without consulting me first?"

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but she didn't know what to say. She hadn't considered his feelings on the matter.

"Answer me!" He snapped.

The witch flinched. "You don't have to shout!" She said.

Snape tightened his jaw in an effort to compose himself but it only made him look angrier. "Do they know about us?" he asked.

_Please say no … _

The last thing he needed was for Potter to find out he was shagging his friend. The fact that he knew about Lily was humiliating enough.

"Don't be ridiculous! Had I told them you would be looking at a very different Hermione, wouldn't you?"

_The oath ... _

"Why Potter and that idiot, Weasley? I thought you weren't on speaking terms?"

"Ron is not an idiot," Hermione corrected. "And I thought so too, but I guess we are now."

Snape snorted. Ron may have been an adult but he was a lazy, mediocre wizard; fully incapable of advance magic. He could barely apparate himself across a room! Determined to retake control, Snape sprang from his seat, snatched a stool and positioned himself directly in front of Hermione.

"Listen to me - they are going to ruin everything!"

"No, they won't!"

"Not if you go back and tell them to stay out of it!"

"Severus -"

Snape's eyes narrowed. "DON'T call me that! Not here … you know the rules," he hissed. The use of his name outside of their _dealings_ was disconcerting – intense, even gratifying but unacceptable. It was necessary that they maintain certain boundaries.

"Very well, _Professor,_" the witch said coldly. "If you will _excuse_ me, I have better things to do with my time than getting yelled at!"

Hermione stood and turned away but before she could take the first step, a pale hand shot out of nowhere and grabbed her wrist.

"Please_ don't go ... _I - I should not have raised my voice - I apologize."

Severus used his skills as an Occulems to regain control of his emotions. Yes, he was still angry that she revealed what only they suspected and even angrier that she had included Potter, but Weasley? She was speaking to Weasley again? He had no defense against that. The wizard felt compelled to ask but the better part of him, the part that didn't want the witch to leave, shot Hermione a groveling glance instead.

"Please, "he said feebly. "Sit down."

Hermione kept the Professor on tenter hooks just long enough to make him squirm. She could tell he was on the verge of insisting.

"Are you willing to listen?" She asked, still unsure of her feelings regarding his outburst.

"I have no desire to partner with P-o-t-t-er or _Weasley _but I'll listen. However, you must first listen to me," he said, guiding the witch back. Once seated, Severus braced the arms of the chair so she could not escape.

"I am not a public man so do not take what about I am about to say lightly. There are things concerning my connection to Potter, no one but the late Headmaster understood. I have no desire to take a trip down memory lane but perhaps a small explanation is in order. It may help you to understand my objection."

Hermione was spell bound. Anything that could help her to understand him better was welcomed.

"Surely, Harry has spoken of his mother? Lily – Lily Evans?"

"You mean Lily Potter," she corrected.

Snape's eyes became dull. "Yes – Lily _Potter."_

"Yes, he talked about his mother many times ..."

"Did he tell you that she and I were schoolmates … friends?"

Hermione looked at the wizard surprisingly. Friends?

"We were the best of friends for many years, until one day a misunderstanding divided us. I went onto to become what I became and she went onto marry that imbecile, James Potter; a man whom I was indebted too through an act of pure, self-serving valor!"

Hermione recalled the story of Sirius, Lupin and James. According to Harry, he his father saved Snape from a terrible fate, one that would have left him mutilated or worse.

"Our friendship had ended but I … I never stopped being Lily's friend, even after I joined Voldemort's ranks. You see … I was the one who informed the Dark Lord of the Trelawney's prophecy regarding a certain wizard's birth. I didn't know that it was about her. When I realized he intended to kill Lily ..."

Snape's face contorted with shame and self-loathing. Yes, he lost the woman he loved but did it matter that he didn't know it was Lily? He knew informing Voldemort of the prophecy was going to seal the fate of some mother, somewhere.

"I did everything I could to protect her but in the end it wasn't enough. In the end, she died because of me. When I learned that Lily's only son had survived, I took an oath to serve Dumbledore and to protect him should the Dark Lord return."

"You did – you kept your promise! Everyone knows that! Everyone knows you were Dumbledore's man all along. Harry said you had protected him all those years to discharge the debt between you and his father. Is that why you don't want his help, because of James?"

Snape answered the witch with a look of anguish. The world knew of his debt but no one, not even his closest friends knew of his deep, unrequited love for his mother. At least the boy had spared him that much. He would allow Hermione to draw whatever conclusion she wanted so long as his secret remained a secret.

Hermione felt a small pang of guilt for not having seen it earlier. Snape must have desperately wanted to rid himself of his past and everything that reminded him of it – Harry must of have been a painful reminder of his mistake.

"And Ron – why not him?"

The wizard's face became terrible. The answer to that question should have been obvious.

"I see ...," she reneged. "They don't know about you. They don't know you're involved. You wouldn't have to deal with them."

"I don't …," said Snape, stopping to rephrase. "_We _don't need their help."

Hermione took a deep breath and glanced away. "But I need them," she said softly. "You don't know what it's been like for me – I'm lost without them. We've been through so much! You of all people should understand what it feels like to lose a friend – now multiply that times two!" She said looking back.

Snape released Hermione's chair and sat up. Their situations were hauntingly similar. Although he detested the thought of the trio reuniting, he would like it even less if he cost her, what pride had cost him. The wizard was accustomed to leading a solitary existence, without friends or family but could he force her to do the same? He held no illusions about their affair. It would likely dissolve as most mismatched personalities do, but what then?

After several moments, Severus rose and returned to his desk.

"Very well – but know this, I will not safeguard Harry or his idiot friend should they need it."

Hermione shook her head and smiled. "I doubt it will come to that," she said.

"Be that as it may, I want it understood that my days of protecting _Harry Potter_ are over."

* * *

**A/C: **I'm not sure how JKR wrote it but in this story Snape's love for Lily is unknown to everyone but Harry.


	51. Escape from Azkaban

"Hermione, Ron," Harry exclaimed. "You're not going to believe this!"

Harry slid the newspaper across the table. Ginny and Lavender, seated a few heads down, glanced over. Neither of them was speaking to their wizards but they were still very interested in what they had to say.

Hermione and Ron's eyes bulged when they read the headline. "Lucius Malfoy Escapes from Azkaban," Ron said disbelievingly.

"That's not all," said Harry.

"_In a daring stunt that left three guardsmen badly injured and one with amnesia, the former conspirator Lucius Malfoy, escaped Azkaban Prison last night. His whereabouts are unknown but he was last seen fleeing southeast on broom towards London. Warden Hobbes has no theories on how the Death Eater managed to incapacitate his jailers or where he received a broomstick, but the Ministry is offering a reward of 50,000 galleons for information leading to his capture_," Hermione read aloud.

"You know, Hermione, you don't seem so crazy now," the redhead offered.

The witch shot the wizard a halfhearted look of appreciation. "Um, thanks ..." she said. "But you really should have believed me when I told you that Malfoy was up to something."

Harry glanced up thoughtfully. "We did believe you ... sort of, but there is nothing connecting Draco to his father's escape," he defended.

Hermione conceded with a nod but she knew in her gut that Draco was somehow involved. Curious, she turned back to the Slytherin table, but Draco wasn't there – Professor Snape was absent too.

"Who are you looking at?" asked Ron, taking another bite of his toast and jam.

"Nothing, really … it's just that Draco is missing."

"He's probably somewhere celebrating," said Harry. "I know I would be, if our roles were reversed."

* * *

Malfoy focused on the dungeon wall. He would not yield. He would not break. He was innocent until _proven_ guilty and no one had any proof – especially not some smelly, magically challenged warden with his reputation on the line.

"Answer me boy!" Warden Hobbes shouted.

"I am innocent," the young wizard replied.

Hobbes moved in closer. "Don't think you can lie to me! I know when someone is lying to me! I am surrounded by liars – lying, no-good traitors like your father!" He said, standing lash-to-lash.

Draco's eyes cut across to his Head of House. He was propped on the corner of his desk with arms folded tightly across his chest. It was obvious that he wasn't pleased with the Warden, but he wasn't moved enough to interfere.

Malfoy's face cooled. "Maybe it was one of your lying, incompetent guards that dropped the key?" He sneered. "Maybe my father's escape wasn't so daring after all – _maybe_ he just walked out of there and you're trying to cover the whole thing up by insinuating that I had something to do with it!"

Snape spied the Warden's reaction and was topside in a flash. He caught the wizard's wrist just before his palm reached Draco's cheek.

"That is enough!" He growled, meeting the man's eyes with a dangerous glare. "I permitted this meeting to avoid troubling the Headmistress, but I must insist that you leave now!"

"This boy is lying! He was the last person to visit Lucius! He is involved I tell you!"

The Potions Master released the Warden's hand. "Your evidence?" he darkly inquired.

Hobbes eyes relented. He had no evidence. He had nothing. Had he any, he wouldn't have come. He would have gone straight to the Ministry, but then Snape knew this. The Warden growled something incomprehensible and walked away.

"We're finished here," he said, stomping towards the door. Seconds later, the slam of it resonated throughout the room.

Severus turned back to the wizard eyeing him suspiciously. "Is it true?" He asked.

"If it was, do you think I'd tell you? You know very well that I don't trust you!" Draco scoffed. "Furthermore, I don't need your help and I certainly don't need any favors!"

Snape lifted his chin and gazed down his nose at the pampered brat. "You may be right, but as Head of Slytherin House, it is my job to protect and preserve its name." He calmly replied. "I could care less about your involvement … only its impact on this school's reputation. We house students here, not criminals! If I find out that you were involved, make no mistake, I will turn you into the Ministry. Perhaps, the inhabitants of Azkaban can do a better job of raising you!"

Draco did his best to hide his trepidation, but he knew that Snape wasn't the type to make idle threats. The fact that he was no longer his ally stung him deeper than he cared to admit. The crabby git had been something of a surrogate father to him, someone he could always rely upon, but all that changed when his father was sentenced to Azkaban and he was allowed to go free. Snape was a no-good trader that played both sides. He was as much of a Death Eater now as he was the day he took the mark!

"Then we have nothing left to say to one another," the wizard announced.

The Potions Master dropped his head, stepped aside and allowed the Slytherin to pass. He had glimpsed all that he needed from the boy's mind in their brief exchange. He saw Adrian, the Muggle Witch and the ring. He saw Draco give it to his father and he saw its purpose. The ring was a transfigured wand, an exact replica of the one that was destroyed by Harry. Draco had indeed helped his father to escape. He only wished he could have seen more, but it was necessary to pull out of his mind before the wizard became suspicious. Sadly, Severus also experienced the anger and regret Draco felt over the dissolution of their relationship but he would do nothing to assure of the boy of his faithfulness.

*Slam!*

The wizard flinched.

Seconds later, he relaxed into a mournful slump. _You were like a son …_ he thought.

* * *

Despite the news of Lucius's escape, the day proceeded as normal. Everyone was abuzz about what happened, but no one dare raise their voices above a murmur but everyone talked. It was even said that the Headmistress questioned Draco personally but nothing came of it. He left the Head Office unscathed according to witnesses. It appeared that Draco Malfoy, for the time being, was not a suspect. If anything, he was the proud son of an escaped Death Eater, whom other Death Eater sons looked up too. Twisted as it was, Draco was a hero.

That night the reunited trio visited the library to research possibilities on the House stones and their bizarre influence. Hermione didn't expect to find anything but six eyes were better than two. Actually, Harry was the most helpful. Ron seemed more focused on the pictures.

"Harry – look at this, Mermaid nipples!"

Harry smiled but didn't comment. Though he found them just as interesting, he didn't want to give Hermione the impression he wasn't there to work.

"Ronald …," she exasperated.

"What - ?"

"If you two will _excuse _me, I have to use the ladies room," Hermione said loftily. "Ron, I hope you will have progressed beyond page ten by the time I get back."

The redhead shrugged and watched her walk off. Though he hated to admit it, he missed her nagging.

* * *

Yawning, Hermione entered lavatory to find it completely empty. Few girls used that particular bathroom during the evening because of its proximity to the library, which made it Hermione's favorite hide-a-way. The witch conducted her business unaware that someone had entered the room. As she was washing her hands, she thought about Severus and what he said about not helping Harry. Admittedly, there was bad blood between them but it was high time he set his grudge aside. Harry had and he was half his age!

Smiling to herself, Hermione took a moment to examine her less than perfect reflection in the mirror.

_Why was I born a straw head? _She sighed.

Right about that time, a pair of cold hands grabbed Hermione by the waist and spun her 180 degrees. Before she could scream, she felt the crushing blow of an invisible force pressing against her lips. Her arms were locked in such a way that it prevented her from reaching for her wand.

"Hhhhmmm !" She protested.

The more Hermione struggled the more aggressive her assailant became, nearly folding her in half over the sink! She was truly taken aback when she felt a tongue part her lips and force its way into her mouth. This did less to suppress the witch than the attacker estimated and she reacted with the only available limb she had. Aiming her knee, she struck!

"UUUUHHHH," a deep voice groaned.

Hermione whipped out her wand. "Finite Incantatum! " She hissed.

The disillusionment charm evaporated to reveal a pained Potions Master on his knees. His skin had gone from sallow to rose red and he was coughing. A terrible hurt vibrated up his spin, through is anus and down his thighs. He was in hell!

"Oh, no … Sever - Professor!" She cried, reaching down to help him.

"NO!" Snape choked, removing his hand from his crotch long enough to wave the witch off.

"I … I am so sorry – you caught by complete surprise … wait a minute – what are doing in the girl's lavatory?"

Severus gave the witch a cruel look. He was attempting to be dashing for Pete's sake! Isn't that what witches liked? Granted, he had no experience in that area but he had been around enough giggling females in his life to know. The wizard considered his reply while he grieved for his aching balls. He had lost all interest in the idea of romance.

"Professor, are you okay?" asked the witch. She felt terrible.

Severus swallowed his irritation and wobbled to his feet. "I … I will … be shortly," he winced.

"Do you mind telling me what you're doing here?"

The wizard used his affliction to stall a moment longer. The truth was he missed her. He wanted to see her. He wasn't sure why. He just did.

"I assumed you would be in the library, so I came in search of you." He said honestly.

"Why? Is something wrong?"

Severus idled again. His plan to see her wasn't working out like he hoped. It was a whim, a very misguided whim. He should have remained in the dungeons. Had he stayed, he would not feel like such a fool now. Not to mention, his father's only gifts would not be in need of a cold compact.

"Draco," he blurted. "I trust you know about his father?"

Hermione leaned against the sink and nodded.

"Yes, of course – I'm sure Draco was involved somehow but without any proof, we're back to square one."

"Not exactly," the wizard said with an air of superiority.

"What is it? What do you know?"

Snape took a deep breath, inhaling Hermione's anxiousness like a flower. He also knew the delay would agitate her and he wanted very much to agitate the witch.

"Oh, it's just a trifle really …"

Hermione's eyes rounded.

"He you told you, didn't he?"

Severus stood up straight and shook his head. "No – I spied his memories after a confrontation with Warden Hobbes. Draco lowered his defenses just long enough for me to get a glimpse. You are correct. He helped his father to escape," he replied.

"I knew it!" said Hermione, folding her arms triumphantly. "So, how did he do it?"

"He transfigured a wand into a ring and snuck into Azkaban during a visit. I suspect that was after we followed him to the Muggle district. Since wands are believed to be untransfigurable, the plan worked. The guards overlooked it during inspection."

"That's impossible," Hermione whispered. "Wands are supposed to be untransfigurable! Even if it were possible, no one but a Master could pull it off."

Snape cocked his brow and smirked. Had it not been for the illegality of it all, he would have been proud of his student. _It was rather brilliant …_ he thought.

"Obviously, you are mistaken," the wizard said, brushing off his knees. "Did you actually read this morning's headline?"

Hermione flung herself off the basin and began to pace. "No … he had help. I'm sure of it," she said tapping her lip. "Remember all those extra classes he took under Professor Sweetie?"

"Surely, you're not suggesting that -"

"No – "Hermione interrupted. "I don't think he did it knowingly but maybe that's where Draco got the idea?"

The wizard bobbed before conceding to the possibility. "Perhaps … but that doesn't matter now. Lucius Malfoy has escaped. My greater concern is why, not how."

The Gryffindor faltered. "He is his father – I can't imagine Draco would need any other reason," she empathized.

"But Adrian – the Muggle Witch? What do they stand to gain? There was something else too … something I couldn't see but I think someone else may be involved. If my instincts are correct, this person is the missing link."

"Right … hm. Do you intend to turn Malfoy into the Ministry?"

Severus was stunned. He hadn't considered turning his godson into the authorities, though he had no qualms with threatening the Slytherin if it served his purpose.

"No, "he sternly replied. "I only threatened Draco with the possibility so he would lower his guard and it worked, but I have no desire to see him incarcerated; at least not for doing something that any child would want to do for his parent. Besides … he and his mother already blame _me _for his father's imprisonment ..."

"That's ridiculous," Hermione scoffed.

"It's not entirely untrue – I did serve the Order."

"Lucius Malfoy had a choice, just as you did! He chose the wrong path. You are not to blame! And what right does Narcissa Malfoy have to detest you! You saved her son's life!"

Severus felt a rush of gratitude. Few people had ever defended him, but that defense was not enough to absolve him of his guilt. Lucius Malfoy had been his friend. Granted, it was a self-serving, politically motivated friendship but it was a friendship nonetheless.

"Um, Professor …?"

Severus's flight of appreciation was cut-short. "Yes," he softly replied.

"How did you know I was here?" She said strangely.

The wizard averted his eyes.

"I saw you exit the library. I followed you here."

"Were you watching me?"

_No. Yes. Why? Where is she going with this?_

"Don't be ridiculous – I saw you studying with those two idiots and waited for you to leave. I needed to speak with you alone!"

Hermione resisted the urge to pounce on the wizard's lame explanation. _He was spying on me ... probably because of Ron. Otherwise, he would have approached me, _she thought.

The Gryffindor didn't know what to make of the Potion Master's jealousy but she doubted she had seen the last of it. Although she found his possessiveness slightly flattering, it was a tad problematic too.

"Severus," she said carefully. The remark earned her a scowl, for which she kindly ignored. "You do trust me, don't you?"

The wizard let out an ornate snort. "I have no reason not to trust you – now, as for those idiots or any wizard your age ... I cannot say. But why does trust matter? This …" he said, gesturing between their bodies. ".. whatever it is – is temporary, so I am assuming. Neither of us can say where it is going or if it will survive beyond the year, correct?"

Hermione sensed something in the wizard, a type of nervousness that she had never sensed before. He was literally reacting with his body, not his mouth. Though his argument seemed reasonable, she could see through it. He didn't mean a word of what he was saying. The witch's heart _sank_. Could it be that the Professor had _real _feelings for her?

"Correct," she answered.

The answer did nothing to ease the wizard's mind. In fact, it ignited it. He distantly hoped for some kind of objection but Hermione seemed fine with the notion of a temporary fix. Little did he realize through the panic that the witch was nervous too. She wasn't willing to commit to anything at that moment, particularly inside a girl's lavatory.

Snape feigned composure.

"I should leave ... should I expect a visit from you soon?" He asked.

Hermione nodded. She wanted him right then. She was aching for him after that little display, but she had Harry and Ron to consider. Also, someone could walk in at any moment, though highly unlikely.

"May I have that kiss now?"

Severus's crotch protested with a violent throb. "I think not. You've been kissed quite enough for one day," he sneered.

Hermione huffed but before she could argue the wizard cast his cloak and walked out.

* * *

"Merlin, Hermione – did you fall in?" Ron chortled. "What were ya doin' there?"

Harry nodded in agreement. She had been gone for more than twenty minutes.

Hermione picked up the nearest book and began flipping through its pages. "You know … girl stuff," she answered.

Ron looked at Harry and Harry looked back at Ron. They both blinked over an exaggerated pause.

"Makes me glad I'm a guy," said Harry.


End file.
